


Truer Than Love

by MariekoWest



Series: DragonBall(☆)Retro [5]
Category: Dragon Ball Z, GohanxPiccolo
Genre: Birthdays & Hatchdays, Canon Overhaul, Devirginating Piccolo, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, GT Doesn't Exist, Graphic Sex, Interspecies Romance, Interspecies Sex, Lemon, Lime, M/M, Majin Boo Saga Doesn't Exist, Namekian Social Culture & Behaviour Dissected, None of the products of DBZ selling-out exists!, Other, Post-Cell Saga, Shounen-ai, Smut, Super Doesn't Exist, Uke Piccolo, Yaoi, ドラゴンボール, ピッコロ受け, ピッコロ大魔王ＪＲ/ピッコロさん, 孫悟飯ＪＲ, 少年愛, 飯Ｐ
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2018-06-08 02:59:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6836320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MariekoWest/pseuds/MariekoWest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Piccolo’s 18th birthday. Gohan finally makes his lifelong feelings for his best friend and mentor known, and felt. Along with a very special present that will change the Namek’s life forever. <b>[3rd Revision 2018/02/27]</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gohan's Gift

**Author's Note:**

> As with all my stories: **headcanons abound** (which is kind of a given by now). This is a belated offering for Piccolo-san’s hatch day of 2016 May 9th. And an advance offering as well, for Gohan-kun's birthday (which based on my headcanon date is) also this month. Cheers! ♥︎
> 
> * * *
> 
> Map of   
>  ** DRAGONBALL(☆)RETRO **
> 
> * * *
> 
> **Legend:**  
> 
> 
> **[ !! ]** Has *very* important related events to current story  
>  **[ - ]** Has events related to current story  
>  **[ x ]** Not yet published  
>  **[ .. ]**  In progress  
>  **[ o ]** Complete
> 
> * * *
> 
> **CHRONOLOGY:**
> 
> * * *
> 
> "Don't Smell The Rozealeas" [ o ]  
>  "Look At the Dark (Mirare Obscura)" [ x ]  
>  "Eyes Only For You" [ o ] **[ !! ]**  
>  "What Didn't Really Happen" [ .. ][ - ]  
>  **"Truer Than Love" ******{YOU ARE HERE}  
>  "God Smitten" [ o ]  
>  "Valentine Scramble" [ .. ]  
>  "Foreshock" [ x ]  
>  "Upside-Down Inside-Out" [ x ]  
> 
> 
> ### ...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gohan and Piccolo spend their very first birthdays together.

> _My dearest Piccolo-sama,_
> 
> _I cherish our friendship more than anything in the world._
> 
> _I need you, to know. Simply because you_   _are my dearest and most treasured friend. You_   _deserve to know…_
> 
> _I do not want to have any regrets. And I don’t want you to, either._
> 
> _Piccolo-san no koto, aishiteiru. (I love you, Piccolo-san.)_
> 
> _More than a friend, more than my own life, and I daresay, even more than the whole world._
> 
> _Love always,_   _  
> Gohan_

_\- Excerpts from a love letter written by a 14-year-old Son Gohan Jr. (May 770)_

* * *

**_Sometime during the peaceful interlude that came after Freeza’s defeat; in that elusive transition between spring and summer…_ **

 

Son Gohan Jr. just turned six years old. And as the humble party at the Son Household came to an end, as per usual, he snuck out to meet someone…

 

**-x-**

“‘Happy Birthday’, is what I believe you humans say.”

A gift-wrapped package “poof”-ed out of nowhere and landed on the soft grass with a hefty thud.

Gohan’s eyes grew wide with unbridled excitement. But it wasn’t because of the gift. Piccolo Daimaoh Jr.’s magic was something that never failed to captivate him. That was the one thing that only Piccolo could do. No matter how strong Saiyajins were or how much they trained, they could never move objects with their minds; let alone make things appear out of thin air.

He leapt up to his Namekian friend who had been levitating in his usual lotus posture, hooking his arms around that strong neck. The six-year-old couldn’t stop the giggles as he bestowed a kiss upon the purple-tinged green cheeks he had been nuzzling against, unable to resist how smooth it was that he gave in to adding a few more kisses, some of which landed on the corner of those shiny mauve-tinted green lips. Piccolo’s face tinted a shade darker, though he said nothing.

*“ _Arigatou_ , Piccolo-san!” Gohan chirped, hopping down from his perch in the Namek’s lap to sit on the ground and inspect his ‘magical’ gift—the giggles unbroken.

Piccolo wanted to laugh too, as unreservedly as Gohan was doing now. He settled for a smile instead. Even if for the life of him the heat blossoming in his chest felt like it was going to melt him whole. He never expected the boy to get so worked up over such a silly thing as a present. But then again, humans did tend to get excited over the silliest things.

He remembered the first thing he saw the day he emerged from his egg…

_A family of three, celebrating their offspring’s birth day anniversary with cake and presents. He didn’t know why he found the sight so vexing that he barged in and terrorized the humans as he saw fit._

Piccolo knew that Gohan had already been given cake, food, and presents earlier that day courtesy of his mother and friends in one of those so-called  “parties” that Earthfolk were so fond of. He couldn’t conjure edible things yet, so cooked meals and cake weren’t an option. The gift he had prepared was the only thing he was confident enough to go with.

Gohan always came mid-afternoon, several hours before the sun began to set. He would excuse himself from the lunch table, saying he needed to study and that he didn’t want to be disturbed. _It wasn’t exactly a lie._ He would, in fact, be studying. Just not in his room, for the most part. But in the woods or by the waterfall, or wherever Piccolo would be situated meditating for that day. Chi-chi would always be busy cleaning up; washing so many dishes and doing other household tasks– that it would be nightfall by the time she completed all of her chores. As long as Gohan was back in time for dinner, his absences (often) went unnoticed.

Gohan was opening his present very carefully now with almost heart-stopping precision. Piccolo’s ears twitched in curiosity. Gohan simply ripped open the wrappers of the gifts he received earlier at his party, so why was he being so meticulous now? “Why don’t you just rip it open?” Piccolo finally blurted out.

“Oh no,” Gohan muttered still transfixed upon the task of unwrapping his present with as little injury to the simple brown paper as possible. (It wasn’t taped up like conventional gift-wrapped presents of Earth were, but folded magically on itself in such an intricate way that it snugly concealed the object within. It was like unwrapping a puzzle.)

“If you like the wrapper that much, I can easily make you one that’s still perfectly intact,” Piccolo offered, doing his best to mask his impatience.

It was the first time he actually gave this human ritual of ‘present-giving’ serious thought, and he was very anxious to see how it will be received.

Gohan looked up from the almost entirely unwrapped present, a big smile on his face, cheeks flushed pink. “I want to keep this wrapper as a memento! Piccolo-san’s gift is special and— _waaaiiii!!!_ ” The young demi-Saiyajin’s fingers trembled as he extracted the object from the nest of creased paper and brought it up to eye-level.

It was a parchment-bound sheaf, clearly a tome –a manuscript of some sort– with unfamiliar writing not of any language he knew (well, not until recently). He couldn’t tear his eyes from it, feeling a buzzing energy spark through his fingers where the aged material came into contact with it. And for some reason, his heart pattered like a furious barrage of raindrops within the confines of his chest. He almost forgot to breathe as he looked up at his mentor who had a ghost of a smile on his face—which quickly turned to worry when their eyes met.

“Gohan?”

“ _Hai…?_ ” Gohan gasped as he realized his cheeks were wet and his vision blurry on the edges.

“What’s wrong?” Piccolo’s normally composed tone was riddled with concern.

“T-this is… a book about… about Nameks… written in… Namekian… isn’t it? This is… very important to you…” Gohan murmured, voice quaky with mixed emotions.

Piccolo tried to dismiss the fuss over it, confused at the boy’s reaction. Gohan seemed to like the present…? But he wanted to be sure…

He dropped to the ground, getting on one knee to face the boy.

“Do you like it?”

“I love it! I’m so happy! * _Arigatou gozaimasu_ , Piccolo-san!!!” The little half-breed had already reattached himself onto Piccolo’s midsection.

“Well,” Piccolo huffed, secretly pleased. “You are always asking me so many questions about Nameks! That thing should be able to answer you better than I ever could. It will keep you preoccupied for a while, and give me some decent amount of undisrupted meditation.”

Gohan chuckled as Piccolo gave him an impish grin with the light jest. He hugged his friend again (who hugged back in his own awkward way); tears wouldn’t stop pouring from his eyes. He didn’t understand why he felt so moved; as though the weight of the treasure entrusted to him was something his soul understood even if his mind could not yet fathom it.

He detached himself from the Namek’s body, and brought the book to his chest, hugging it tightly. Piccolo had just given him something so precious – a piece of his physical soul! More fits of irrepressible sobs and laughter gripped his tiny frame. Gohan’s heart was bursting with so much happiness and overflowing with gratitude. He wanted to repay Piccolo somehow; make him happy too.

“ _Ne, *_ Piccolo-ojisan, when is your birthday?”

“I do not have one.”

“That’s impossible. Everyone who’s ever lived has a birthday. When were you born?”

Piccolo’s brows furrowed. “I did not think it important a detail to remember, what day it was when I hatched from that egg… All I know is that it was ten years ago.”

“Ten years ago?!” Gohan exclaimed, jumping to his feet. “I thought you were as old as my father! You’re just a kid like me!”

A vein twitched in Piccolo’s temple at being referred to as a ‘kid’, but he bit back a growl of annoyance and stated as grown-up-esque as he could muster, “I aged myself.”

“That sounds fun! I wish I could do that too.”

“I only did it because I had no choice. It’s not as ‘fun’ as you might think.”

“Then why don’t you reverse the process?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“But Piccolo-san’s magic is  _amazing_! I’m sure there is nothing you can’t do if you really put your mind to it.”

Piccolo fixed the raven-haired boy with a scrutinizing stare. The child’s acuteness of mind and pure heart never failed to surprise him. Sometimes Gohan seemed to know more about him than he did himself. Though he felt that Gohan’s exaltation for him was often out of proportion, he had grown accustomed to being showered with the boy’s praises, and even allowed himself to be flattered every now and then.

“Retrogression spells can be easily accomplished– if only for a limited period of time.”

Gohan’s eyes twinkled as a small pouch appeared and landed on his lap.

“Transfiguration type magic is one of the most complicated. So I use magic bean pots to experiment first. You cast a spell on a pot filled with seeds that automatically reverse magic after a given time. When the seeds have soaked up the magic, they will mature. You can then ingest it to safely check if the spell works. I’ve tried aggrandisement, transmogrification, reconfiguration, transmutation, and some others…”

All the while Gohan was excitedly rummaging through the different coloured beans. “This one looks like a _senzu_!” he declared holding up a sickly-green coloured bean.

“That  _is_  a _senzu_.”

“Oh.” Gohan dug inside the pouch once more and fished out a shiny cobalt blue bean.

“That’s for permutation, look for the red-brick coloured one.”

When Gohan had found it (though he was very curious as to what all the other coloured beans did) he slipped it into his pocket and beamed up brightly at his green friend whose lips tugged upward at one corner in response.

“Be sure to use that wisely… Oh, and try not to use it until you have amply aged, otherwise you will be reverted to infancy.”

Gohan nodded sprightly. “I’m really happy that we’re almost the same age, Piccolo-san! That means we can be special friends!”

“‘Special' friends…?”

“Yes. We’re already bestest friends, now we can be bestest-special friends! You need to have a birthday too, Piccolo-san! How about sharing mine? That way we can always celebrate it together!” Gohan looked thrilled at this prospect but then after some consideration added, “Though since you’re older than me by four years, maybe your birthday should come earlier! A day, no—maybe two weeks apart! That way, we can look forward to celebrating our birthdays at the same time, twice!”

“I really do not think that will be necessary…”

“It’s settled then! Starting next year we’ll celebrate your birthday before mine! But for now, let’s celebrate your birthday today too!”

“It really is of no consequence to me.”

“ _It is to me!_ ” Gohan insisted, as he dug into his knapsack and proffered a book about insects. “I wasn’t able to prepare anything special for you since I didn’t know, but this is my very first and most favourite book. I want you to have it, Piccolo-san!”

It’s true, that in all ten years of his existence, Piccolo has never been given anything out of goodwill, let alone friendship. And so, even if he was doing his best to act like the grown-up that he prided himself to be, he didn’t know why as he took what was to be his very first present from his ‘bestest-special' friend– he was feeling a most peculiar twinge in his heart that he couldn’t yet describe.

“Happy Birthday, Piccolo-san!”

 

_**To be continued…** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***Arigatou / arigatou gozaimasu** – Thank you. / Thank you very much.
> 
>  ***Piccolo-ojisan** – In this context, means “mister” not “uncle”. Gohan drops this later after learning his real age.


	2. First Date & Flower Beds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gohan has prepared something very special. After all, it wasn't just Piccolo's 18th birthday, but quite possibly, also their very first date. ( **Hint: It's lemony.** )

> _Dearest Gohan,_
> 
> _You're the reason I've come to love the sunrise._
> 
> _You're the reason I see it at all._
> 
> _I am not sure I understand everything there is to understand about love, but I am certain there is no one else in the world I have felt it for._
> 
> _I love you. I always have._
> 
> _Thank you for letting me love you. And thank you for loving me._
> 
> _Yours truly,_   _  
> Piccolo_

_\- The 17-year-old Piccolo Daimaoh Jr.’s response to Gohan’s love letter (May 770)_

* * *

**_Four years after Cell had been defeated, Piccolo Daimaoh Jr waits with bated breath at the Kami no Shinden…_ **

 

The Earth-born Namek’s chest swelled as the young hybrid Saiyajin’s Ki steadily closed in and finally entered his field of vision.

Before he could even open his mouth in greeting, Son Gohan Jr. was already bounding for him, satchel discarded to one side and both arms wrapped fiercely around his midsection.

“Piccolo-san!!! Oh, Piccolo-san! I missed you so much!”

Gohan was a young man of fifteen now, and perhaps it was the two-year absence that brought about the passionate sentimental outpour, but it has been a long time since Piccolo had been made to feel Gohan’s affection this way… He had almost forgotten how the boy made his heart want to catapult itself out of his chest.

“Gohan, I missed you too.”

That familiar soothing deep rumble plucked at Gohan’s soul, causing the boy to grab onto the Namek fiercer than ever.  _Kamisama. How he missed that voice!_  Just being near Piccolo this way; feeling him speak, feeling him breathe! It was all so surreal all of a sudden, like he had taken everything about the man for granted all his life.

But as he deeply inhaled that comforting scent that he missed terribly, finally! after two long years, all was starting to feel right again with his world.

Minutes of peaceful silence elapsed with only the sound of the rogue breeze and rustling leaves to compliment it. Gohan content to be where he was, listening to Piccolo’s trenchant heartbeat; and Piccolo, mollified, as he remained trapped in the confines of Gohan’s possessive embrace; both basked in the familiar steadfast vibrations of each other’s Ki.

Gohan finally looked up at his friend, beaming brightly, breathless with uncontainable happiness and cheeks blooming roses.

*‘ _Tadaima._ ’

*‘ _Okaerinasai,_ ’ Piccolo returned warmly into their mental link. That singular elusive lopsided smirk ghosting over his lips.

And Gohan was reminded of how rowdy the butterflies residing in his stomach could get because they’ve been in and out of hibernation for most of the two-year hiatus from Piccolo.

*“ _Ne_ , Piccolo-san, I got taller, haven’t I?” Gohan spoke up after more moments of comfortable silence.

“A  _lot_ taller.”

It earned a hearty chuckle from his companion who pouted the next second, “You’re still taller than me.”

“I will always be taller than most everyone.”

“I’m still growing!” Gohan found imperative to point out (utterly failing to sound not sulky).

*“ _Aa._ ” Piccolo never really understood the boy’s obsession to gain on his height, but he humoured him nevertheless.

It was kind of cute, in a childish way. Then again, he secretly found everything the boy did endearing. But HFIL would freeze over before he readily admitted that.

“I’m just really glad it’s not only Piccolo-san’s obi that I can reach now.” Gohan shifted his gaze, fidgeting a bit. “I-I’ve waited so long for this day…”

Piccolo peered down at him, unsure if they were still on the same topic. But he wasn’t kept in the dark for long.

Taking a deep breath, Gohan tiptoed as high as he could manage, and reached up to hook his arms around Piccolo’s shoulders and neck (feeling a stab of frustration that he still needed to tilt his head a good forty-five degrees upward) to plant a chaste kiss—lips lingering longer than intended—upon the other’s cheek.

“The day I would be tall enough to do that– without hovering…”

The unmistakable colour spreading across his mentor’s cheeks was noteworthy (not to mention unbearably cute).

Gohan’s pulse was skyrocketing, lips buzzing with static, and lungs refusing to release the breath he had taken in – all from that simple and even fairly innocent gesture. He pushed his breath out in a careful protracted puff in an effort to calm his nerves.

It’s true whenever Piccolo’s so-called birthday or “hatchday” came about, the Namek would be extra gracious, and Gohan usually got away with more than what Piccolo already allowed him; which was no trivial matter considering this  _was_  Piccolo after all.

This year, however, with everything that has happened between them, things were clearly going to be very different. There were the poems, and then the * _love letters_. The prospect of romance promising to shake up their already special friendship brought about a sort of tension—a sexually charged energy—suffused in the air. 

“Happy Birthday, Piccolo-sama!” Gohan said in sotto voce, elated when Piccolo didn’t flinch at the kiss or their current closeness but merely kept his gaze, regarding the boy with attentive silence.

This was usually the part where Gohan would offer him a present as part of the yearly ritual. If it wasn’t a book, most of the time, it would be something he made, like little wooden carvings, human garments, or *home-cooked food.

Gohan shifted his weight as he untangled himself from Piccolo’s frame (arms aching, instantly missing the contact). “I- I actually have a… uhm… very different present for you this year…”

“I told you,” Piccolo grumbled. “I don’t need anything. As long as you’re happy.”

“Right _…_  As long as I’m happy, huh?” Gohan rubbed his nape, feeling his face grow hot. Piccolo says the same thing every time, but it still always makes his heart do cartwheels. “What if… what would make me happy—happiest of all even—might make you feel uncomfortable?”

“I don’t quite follow.” The demi-Saiyajin looked away, pondering how to proceed. Then Piccolo added, “I think it’s absurd that you would concern yourself too much with my discomfort now, when you were less reserved about that as a child. Thanks to you, I’ve already habituated to all the ways you and your kind make me feel ‘uncomfortable’.”

The ebony-haired teenager gave a nervous bubble of a laugh. His lovesick mind couldn’t help toying with the idea: Piccolo being used to  _that._  And he laughed again, earning him a slight lift of a green brow.

No matter how many times he ran a simulation of this day in his head, it never got easier. Confessing your long-standing feelings vis-à-vis to your childhood best friend and mentor (who happened to be an alien of a different race and also quite possibly the most naïve eighteen-year-old grown man on the planet) simply wasn’t easy.

Gohan loosened his shirt collar, sucked in a breath, and cleared his throat (a self-reprimand to get it on with already). He had been mentally bracing himself for this moment; and he promised himself that if this day came and he didn’t feel the same anymore, then he would simply forget.

But if the opposite were to happen—if his feelings did not only  _not_  fade away or remain constant, but burgeon into something bigger and so much more than just a stupid childhood crush or some manic adolescent phase…

Then he would act on it like the mature young adult he was striving to be. And this– was the culmination of all his efforts at ‘acting on it’.

“Well…” Gohan heaved as an incoming stampede of emotions threatened to inundate him. After Piccolo himself had made a conscious effort to reach out to him he simply can’t afford to mess this up!

He was the only one who ever looked forward to— _the only one_  who remembered without fail—this day which he himself had proclaimed: Piccolo's birthday. And yet, on this day, every year since, Piccolo would always say the same thing: that he didn't need presents, as long _as Gohan was happy._

_Why was it still always his happiness on the forefront when that’s not why he wanted his best friend to have a special day in the first place?_

He wouldn’t have any of that, not anymore! He wanted to repay Piccolo for the all the kindness and friendship; for the one who always thought of his happiness to be the one happy for a change. He wanted  _more than anything_   ** _to make Piccolo happy_** _._

“What would make me happy is your happiness, Piccolo-san,” he finally declared. “Which leaves us in a loop.”

Piccolo grinned wolfishly at that. And Gohan couldn't help but mirror it. After holding each other’s gaze for what seemed like time refusing to move, the half-breed teenager bent down to pull something out of his satchel.

"I think I've finally figured out a way to beat that loop.” Green brows arched slightly. “There's something I've always wanted.” Gohan’s heartbeat quickened. “For as long as I can remember—maybe even longer, but I never pursued it thinking it might be against your happiness...”

Though visibly confused, Piccolo remained patiently expectant and all ears. Gohan took that chance to hold up a freshly picked tulip blossom clipped short at the stem; to lightly graze Piccolo's lips.

“Do you trust me, Piccolo-san?”

Piccolo blinked somewhat sceptically, still staring at the boy, and then the vermillion-coloured flower. *“ _Aa._  You know I do.” There was no one he trusted more, really.

Gohan balanced himself on his toes as he ceremoniously lessened the distance between their faces; his hand moved with him to pin the tulip behind one of his Namek friend’s big pointy ears before he finds Piccolo’s lips with his own and gently presses into it.

Eyelids flutter shut at the unexpected burst of pleasure. Piccolo's lips were… impossibly soft and supple beyond anything he’s experienced or ever dared imagine. The feeling of kneading delicately into such velvety smooth plumpness was addicting; breath hitching as those lips parted and the Namek's soft breath tickled his hyper-sensitized lips. All rational thought completely dissolved when he received tentative presses back; wrenching dizzy, throaty moans from his chest.  _Piccolo was kissing him back…! Dear Kamisama!_

How long they indulged in the kiss was beyond their comprehension at that point, but they were soon panting subtly, unable to process anything except the mind-numbing sensation of their joining lips. Gohan gasped as he felt Piccolo reflexively bite down when he pushed a little too forcefully; causing sharp fangs to snag and break skin. Only then did Gohan realize that his lungs were bursting from lack of oxygen.

He gently withdrew, taking huge gulps of air, trying to blink away some of the dazedness to keep from crumpling to the floor in a weak-kneed heap. He didn’t even remember that his lips were torn and bleeding.  _Piccolo-san kissed me back!_  That was the only thing that kept looping in his hazy mind at the moment.

His hands which had considerably behaved up until that point (save for the languid caressing of the Namek’s nape), moved down to capture Piccolo's long elegant fingers. He knew most Nameks had near flawless skin due to their healing abilities – Piccolo particularly, who was not only a single class but a hybrid warrior and mage class Super Namek, possessed greatly heightened healing abilities. Still, that knowledge was not enough to prepare him for the feel of shockingly smooth palms (the last time he held Piccolo’s hand was when he was much younger)—and when combined with Piccolo’s body heat, the simple yet intimate touch made electricity dance in his veins.

They had barely gained on their pulses when they sought each other’s kisses again.

This time, Gohan gave in to the urge to flick out his tongue when he felt those sinful lips press and move against his, parting ever so slightly. He was rewarded with a low moan from his partner which he interpreted as approval; and he accordingly, forced those lips open wider to deepen his invasion. He wasted no time in thoroughly exploiting the access he was being granted; tongue tracing and probing every nook and cranny that it could find within that delightful cavern; fully intent on feeling and tasting more of Piccolo.

Again, time seemed non-existent; and when they finally pulled apart, they were too overwhelmed to do anything more than allow their lungs to replenish air and their minds to recalibrate.

Even so, Gohan didn’t miss the chance to drink in the breath-taking sight of the beautiful Namek’s expression; one of dazed arousal and awakened need. And just like that, he found himself dying to see just how much more sublime his beloved Namek could look when driven over the edge of sexual pleasure.

Unable to resist not touching Piccolo for long, his fingers were on Piccolo’s lower lip before he knew it, watching for any sign of discomfort or unwillingness to continue as he indolently traced the shiny delicate curves of Piccolo’s mouth that he was growing even more feverishly fond of by the minute. But quite contrary to what a part of him expected– lust-fogged translucent amethyst orbs bore into his hazy mud-browns, brazenly assuring him that Piccolo had no intention of backing down. If anything, it was made explicitly clear how badly those lips were begging to be kissed some more when a succulent purple tongue eagerly lapped at his fingers in greeting.

Gohan sucked in a breath; the wonderful feel of the Namek’s tongue shooting shivers up his spine. He was lost in the heady sensation of his fingers being licked for some moments, before he finally gave in and pushed one inside past those lips. He nearly collapsed in shudders as Piccolo let him, and even lightly sucked on it. Needless to say, the hybrid Saiyajin wasn’t able to hold out for long. He pulled out his finger to recapture Piccolo’s mouth with his own, angling and anchoring to get in deeper; challenging the Namek’s tongue to clash with his own, to which Piccolo was only more than willing to oblige.

His was much like a human tongue, only fuller, slightly more textured, and seemingly longer; Gohan shuddered every time it managed to slide all the way in, nudging the very back of his throat before pulling back out, making him feel full all at once and wanting the very next moment. With every push and pull, tiny white lights exploded behind his eyelids and the world spun a bit faster…  _An incredible feeling_ , Gohan decided; and he wanted to see if he could make his beloved feel it too. So when he next managed to bait Piccolo's tongue halfway in, he sucked. _Hard._

He almost cried out as Piccolo's fingers twitched and tightened around their still connected fingers with each furious suck. A particularly powerful squeeze shot lighting pain up his arm. Gohan cringed inwardly, chuckling into their kiss, thoroughly enjoying Piccolo's involuntary reactions along with the maddening combination of intense pain and building arousal that accompanied it. The demi-Saiyajin felt the strangest urge to swallow the entirety of that luscious tongue; the mere idea of it made him shiver. Piccolo kept filling his mouth again and again, until Gohan was gasping and groaning, eyeballs practically rolling off its sockets from the jolts of pleasure repeatedly being ignited in his loins.

The duration of their lip locks were getting longer and longer with each bout. Finally, they both only relented after having pushed their lungs to its very limit – panting hard for some moments and caught up in the magnetic pull of each other’s flaring Ki; neither of them had enough sense left to bother wiping the trail of mixed saliva and blood dribbling down their chins; bodies suddenly feverish and perspiring profusely.

_‘P-Piccolo-san... W-was that your first kiss…?’_

_‘…Is that what it’s called?’_ Piccolo sent back after a pregnant pause.

Gohan was almost afraid to ask.  _Could someone else have taught his Namek to kiss like that?_  Well, he himself learned mostly from books and television, and of course– his unending fantasies; but he doubted very much that Piccolo had any of those things as reference…

He found himself feeling jealousy for the very first time in his entire life. Geez, he wasn’t even sure yet if he and Piccolo were already in a relationship and he was being jealous already?

_‘H- have you ever done that… with… anyone else before today?’_

Another smaller pause. _‘No.’_

_‘Kamisama…’_

_‘Did I do it wrong?’_

_‘Oh, holy HFIL, no! You were… That was– just– wow.’_

When Piccolo only regarded him with an uncomprehending stare, Gohan laughed out loud; convinced more than ever that he was the luckiest person in the universe. It would appear that Piccolo was simply a natural when it came to kissing. And somehow, even if he did not think it possible, he found himself utterly *gob-smitten for the Namek all over again.

Staying there and kissing each other senseless, was to Gohan, a perfectly perfect way to spend the entire day (and his entire life) with Piccolo. But he remembered that he had prepared a very special birthday surprise for his Namek; and it was one surprise well worth momentarily putting off that perfectly perfect idea for.

He grasped those elegant fingers tightly again and tugged. “Come with me, Piccolo-san!” Practically dragging the towering Namek over the edge of  _*Kami no Shinden_ , to be suspended in mid-air only for a second before blasting off in joined flight.

They flew far and beyond the outskirts of town, a whole new thrill coursing through their being as they flew hand-in-hand for the very first time as a budding couple. Their lips were still thrumming and swollen – a blissful reminder of their first real kiss. Both of them chose to enjoy the silence for the entire flight, soaking in their newfound bliss. After some minutes of flying at breakneck speed, they landed on the border of a familiar mountainous area. The raven-haired boy excitedly led his companion down the rocky cliff, through the grassy slope, and past rows of thickets and foliage. They were running so fast, they were almost flying, feet barely touching the ground. Right before they emerged into a clearing, a nostalgic redolence met Piccolo’s nose…

They had reached their destination, and Gohan allowed Piccolo’s fingers to slip free as he advanced a few paces forward from where the younger teenager had halted. As soon as his mind had taken it in, Piccolo knew instantly that it was a sight he was never going to forget…

Sparkling golden sunbeams filtered through the highest treetops, perfectly illuminating a sprawling glade lush with flower beds that swayed in unison with the reckless breeze and serving a playground to an array of colourful insect-life (mostly spritely bright yellow butterflies). For some moments, Piccolo remained mute and completely awestruck. Until realization set in and his eyes grew wide in *recognition.

“Do you… Do you like it?” Gohan had stepped up to right beside him, a nervous blush ghosting over his attractive boyish features. When he got no answer, he peered up and found the answer written all over his beloved’s face. He didn’t think he remembered any other time he saw his best friend gripped by such hushed wonderment.

“Gohan… How…? When did you…?” was all Piccolo managed when he was finally able to speak.

“I couldn’t let it stay the way it was…” Gohan said wistfully, remembering the day he found the precious flowers burned down. “I had to fix it. I know how much you love this place, especially the tulips. I’ve read that to some Nameks, it can be like what catnip is to cats.” A fact that Gohan was very proud to have known. Piccolo was not very expressive about the things he liked; and so when he did find something, he was sure to take it to heart.

The Earth-born Namek finally tore his gaze from the sight and turned to the boy next to him, cheeks faintly dusted purple and lips pulled up to one side ever so slightly. “I like it… very much.”

“Ahh, * _yokatta!_ ” Gohan allowed a pent-up sigh of relief to roll off his chest along with some jittery titters. “I’m so glad you do!”

“I feel…”

Gohan found himself holding his breath all over again. It wasn’t everyday that his usually sullen friend began his sentences with ‘I feel…’.

“I think I feel…  _happy._  Thank you, Gohan.”

The demi-Saiyajin searched Piccolo’s eyes, and surely enough, there was an unmistakable glimmer of exhilaration there. It caused Gohan’s heart to do elaborate somersaults and a big sunny smile to break across his face.

“Happy Hatchday, Piccolo-san!”

To the young demi-human’s shock, Piccolo leaned down to capture his lips in a kiss. It was brief, but enough to knock his head back into the clouds.

“Don’t stop,” Gohan murmured shyly as soon as he recovered his powers of speech; growing heady all over again with mounting desire.

He hovered to drape his arms over Piccolo’s shoulders and wrap his legs around Piccolo’s hips, locking the Namek more securely in a koala-hug. Piccolo’s arms which had reflexively moved up to support Gohan from the back, moved down to under his seat, lifting him up so that their mouths were at level. Their lips aligned and locked onto each other’s, leisurely indulging for endless minutes. Only when the planet felt like it was going to spin itself right off its axis did they reluctantly pull apart, severely out of breath.

The lack of air proved no hindrance to Gohan’s hands, as they quite impetuously hoisted the heavy mantle off Piccolo’s shoulders, the weighted turban coming off with it. He buried his nose in the crook of the Namek’s now exposed neck, revelling in the nostalgic nature-sweet scent of Piccolo that brought with it only the fondest, sweetest memories of his life. Now, the fragrance was so much more. It was like a drug; the most potent aphrodisiac. And as he allowed his senses to be infused with it, he soon found the luxurious Namekian skin beckoning to him, suddenly possessed of an irresistible urge to taste it and adorn that graceful neck with a choker of bruises.

He took his time licking and sucking at every inch of lush green skin. But the tantalizing noises rumbling forth from Piccolo’s throat were becoming too seducing for Gohan to resist for much longer. Satisfied with how Piccolo’s neck looked even prettier with angry purple blotches all over, he found those lips once more and greedily helped himself, letting his tongue tease Piccolo’s fangs for some moments. His hands meanwhile, fondled the Namek’s long antennae, rubbing and pinching at the base and bulbous tip, and stroking the length of it.

Piccolo was already much too dazed to even notice the steady stream of pleasured groans and tremors racking his body. Tiny electric shocks fizzled up the length of his spine and molten heat repeatedly erupted in his core from how fiercely he was being kissed and how indecently those adroit fingers molested his antennae. Those heated hands cupped his face the next minute, pulling him deeper into the searing kiss, and his young lover’s persistent tongue pressed daringly much farther in than it had ever done so far, making him see stars. He instinctively leaned in towards the boy’s mouth, wanting to feel more; but in the next minute, the whole world was flipped upside-down!

Petals and leaves (along with some disgruntled insects) flew high up and around them as they crashed into the flower beds.

“G-Gohan!”

“Piccolo-san…”

“Are you alright?”

Light-headed giggles filled the air before Gohan looked up at his friend’s worried face atop him. Slowly, the mid-afternoon’s benevolent sunbeams and colourful tulip petals descending in slow motion around them came back into focus and served the perfect backdrop to Piccolo’s handsome ethereal face.

“I’m more than alright,” Gohan purred breathlessly, reaching up to bring his beloved’s lips crashing down over his all over again.  _‘As long as you’re with me.’_

And this time, Piccolo easily met him with equal fervour.

 

**-x-**

 

They lay there side by side in the tulip beds for some endless minutes bathed in each other’s reassuring Ki, staring up at the late afternoon’s cloud-littered sky and lost in their own thoughts.

“Is… this what you wanted that you had feared might cause me discomfort?”

Gohan turned to his companion, staring fondly at the face of what for him came to define what angels looked like. After so many sleepless nights of worrying about what the world and Piccolo himself would think, after all the doubts that threatened to crush the pure feelings he’s always had in his heart, and despite all the chaos that was his life… Piccolo was always there for him. Their friendship was one made in heaven.

And now that his feelings for his best friend had inevitably blossomed, or possibly even simply “awakened”, he was beyond happy to have Piccolo right beside him, clinging to his hand just as passionately as they crossed over to the next stage of their relationship. Piccolo– the one being that practically defined his world and what love was to him; now that they were together again…  _Nothing had ever felt more right with his world._

*“ _Aa_. It’s because I love you, Piccolo-san,” Gohan replied sincerely, embarrassment staining his cheeks. “I can’t help but want you.”

“ _‘Want me’_ …” Piccolo echoed thoughtfully, leaving the words suspended for some seconds.

His heart soared at the thought of being ‘loved’ and ‘wanted’ wholly by none other than Gohan himself. Yet this romantic concept of love was something so completely new and unexpected to him. He was mildly confused, yes—but not altogether unhappy. All he understood before was Gohan’s happiness; he was still in the process of learning to distinguish his own.

“You mean, you want… to have sex with me?” Piccolo ventured.

Gohan blushed madly. Piccolo’s unobtrusive voice was such a stark contrast to the seductive words he had just uttered that it caused the half-breed to break into a fit of uncontainable, high-strung laughter.

Piccolo waited patiently for the somewhat unnerving chortling to abate but was already feeling quite mortified that he might have gotten ahead of himself, so opted to say nothing more; not quite ready to risk making a bigger fool of himself.

When Gohan turned to face him again his eyes were earnest and alight with a flame that seemed to set his own soul on fire. “Yes, Piccolo-san. If you will allow me that greatest honour, I would  _love_ to have sex with you.  _Very much._ ”

Piccolo flushed as their eyes locked on for a moment before they both shyly turned to some other less intense feature of the scenery above them to focus on.

“I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t want your body along with the rest of you; heart, mind, and soul. But I want you to want it too, Piccolo-san. Because  _I love you._  Your happiness is so important to me. I want to make you happy! I want  _to be_  your happiness. If you would let me. And if you’re going to say that your happiness is defined by my own… Then allow me to define very precisely what happiness is for me, Piccolo-san…” Slightly wide ruby-tinged amethyst eyes met his. “What would make me truly happy– is for us to be together, _always_. It doesn’t have to be as lovers, if that’s not what you want…” (An *involuntary wince in his left eye as he said that distracted him for a split second but he recovered quickly.) “As long as I’m with you.”

Gohan gave way to silence for the next moments, having become quite breathless from the impassioned proclamation, and letting the implications of his words sink in for both of them.

For his part, Piccolo’s heart was suddenly beating so fast and so hard that his ears were going deaf. It was so different from all the times he experienced the adrenaline-rush of battle, a whole other dimension of nervous excitement and emotional exuberance. Yet another in the plethora of extraordinary sensations deep within him that he didn’t even know he had or was capable of feeling… Feelings that only Gohan was ever able to incite.

 _If this is what being in love is… it’s kind of nice,_ were Piccolo’s first coherent thoughts that surfaced then, which surprised even him. The sudden warmth spreading from where Gohan’s hand had protectively wrapped around and affectionately squeezed all three of his four fingers made more curious tingling sensations linger in his chest to spread all over his body and nestle in his cheeks. It felt unnerving; but not at all unpleasant…

*“ _Ne_ , Piccolo-san,” Gohan looked up towards clear blue skies. “When you said in your letter that you loved me too… was this what you had in mind? Is this what you wanted as well? Because if I were to go with the way you were kissing me…”

“I never imagined anything like this,” Piccolo admitted when the sentence was left hanging. “But everything you said… I think…

“I want it too…  _very much_.”

Gohan turned just in time to catch Piccolo turn to catch his gaze, a small smile playing at the corner of plush green lips. Smooth slender fingers broke out of burly calloused ones to entangle each of their fingers more securely together and give an emphatic heart-stopping squeeze.

“If being in love is what you said, then… I believe, I am in love with you too.”

Gohan hiccupped. After some moments of shock wherein tears instantly flooded his eyes, he abruptly rolled over and propped himself up on his forearms to lean over and kiss the Namek with trembling lips. “Piccolo-san…!!! I’m so happy…! I love you…! I love you  _to death!_ ”

“I love you too, Gohan,” Piccolo replied, breathless, when his lips had finally been released.

The demi-Saiyajin closed his eyes as fragile beatitude washed over him, literally breaking his heart in two and bringing an onslaught of delirious laughter and tears. When he felt gentle fingers daub at the wetness on his cheeks, he cradled the said hand and pressed Piccolo’s soft palm against his face, kissing and leaning into it as more tears spilled forth. Gohan could almost feel a shift in the world at that moment… As though everything had always been perfect.

_Piccolo-san loves me back! Piccolo-san loves me…! Oh, Kamisama, arigatou!_

Gohan inched closer and Piccolo met him halfway as their lips became reunited. At first, feathery nudging then tentative pressing, and very gradually their tongues wooed each other as breathless mewls and soft smacking of lips filled the air. Gohan soon pushed himself off the ground completely to move atop and straddle his newfound mate; palms flattening over the neatly fastened obi around that enticingly narrow waist. He pulled up the tucked-in fabric of Piccolo’s deep purple gi top and slid his strong hands underneath, feeling up the row of tight abdominal muscles to the sculpted chest.

Piccolo sucked in a breath, cheeks instantly tinting a shade darker, flinching slightly at the ticklish sensation but not breaking eye contact with his half-breed lover. Gohan’s cheeks weren’t trying to be any more modest either, as he allowed his hands the pleasure of caressing that body that was the object of his sweetest, most unrelenting fantasies.

The first time he saw it when they were bathing together, he affirmed what he had thought for the longest time:  _that Piccolo Daimaoh Jr was the most bedazzling creature he has ever seen._ Piccolo’s many beautiful colours and grooves and patterns constantly pervaded his dreams. He had always wanted to trace it with his fingers, longing to feel what it was like; an undisclosed curiosity that had possessed him, even as a little child. Then as he grew older, he found himself haunted by the same (though greatly evolved) fantasies as he lay in bed staring out his window during many a sleepless night. His hand would lift up to trace imaginary constellations in the night sky, pretending they were the ridges and lines on his Namek friend’s body, marvelling at the wonder of nature’s flawless design; imagining how delightful such multi-textured skin would feel on the palms of his hands, against his entire body…  _How it would taste…!_  He shivered with want each time, trying his best to piece together in his mind– all the parts and pieces of Piccolo’s design from what little glimpses of it he could remember from when they used to bathe together and his friend would be completely naked.

“You are so perfect,” Gohan whispered, thirstily drinking in the enraptured expression on Piccolo’s face that his exploration was causing. Unable to help himself any longer, he gripped the hem of his love’s gi top and pulled it off completely. Piccolo was panting shallowly by then, chest rhythmically undulating, abdomen flexing and un-flexing; the sight too mesmerizing for Gohan who felt his manhood stiffen further in total approval.

Piccolo’s sylph-like clawed hands reached forward to deftly loosen the demi-Saiyajin’s coal-grey necktie, making the white dress shirt underneath unbuttoned next. And Gohan didn’t think it was possible, but he felt like his arousal was on fire and actually ascending to advanced levels of Super Saiyajin on its own.

Finally, his shirt was open. He pulled it down and slid it off one wrist, not even having enough patience left in him to completely slip it off his other arm in his haste to re-entwine their fingers and pin Piccolo’s palms out of the way on either side. The Earth-born Namek obediently submitted to the position despite not being accustomed to the feeling of being subdued. A loud moan is ripped from his throat, scattering all other thoughts except the feel of Gohan’s mouth on his chest, and the weight and friction of that well-toned Saiyajin body pressing and sliding over his. Each deliberate grind of their skin’s provocative textures and bulges against each other repeatedly ignited fantastic sparks in their veins until slowly but surely – their bodies felt like a blazing furnace; the resulting wildfire enough to short out all rational thinking.

At that point, both their Ki signatures were spiking drastically and yet, so used to each other’s energies emanating at high levels that in their current befuddled state, they had overlooked the irregularity entirely. Their only saving grace being their current location that was quite a ways from where the rest of the Z-Senshi were, that at such a distance, it arrived to the others like faint energy spikes that could be easily associated with their usual intense sparring sessions.

And it was all good as well, because as the normally more sensible one of them lay there, all sensibility spiralling beyond his usually expert control as he drowned in pleasure from all the new sensations he was being made to feel—the younger of them was even more far gone to even be aware of how his hair was flickering with golden lightning, and how flecks of luminous green were permeating his eyes  as he succumbed more and more to his basal Super Saiyajin instincts.

And sure enough, almost purely primal and instinctual movements took over as Gohan’s entire body became the living conductor of hybrid Super Saiyajin Ki currents. He barely even registered that he was thrusting his hips very slowly and deliberately into his mate’s tight, smooth stomach muscles. His tongue had travelled north, thoroughly anointing a pointy ear with licks and kisses, and was now flicking out at Piccolo’s antenna; suddenly finding the perky protrusion mouth-watering. Catching one, he easily slipped his lips around it halfway and sucked with gusto, and is instantly rewarded with a very sexy unreserved moan from its owner. He decided that he liked the sound very much and made sure to stimulate more – unrelenting until Piccolo was a sweaty, moaning mess beneath him; his name the only coherent thing spilling from those lovely green lips.

That predictably caused Gohan’s discomfort to increase exponentially and his fingers grabbed and pulled at the still secure obi around his love’s waist, desperately tearing at it—ruthlessly ripping it apart eventually, along with everything else that was in the way of his prize (his own lower garments weren’t spared). Piccolo’s quaking thighs are hastily moved out of the way, and both groaned loudly as Gohan’s rock-hardness came into contact with Piccolo’s aching heat.

Hungry Saiyajin lips claimed the Namek’s mouth again, as Gohan plundered with his tongue as far as it would go, revelling in the a sharp buck of hips beneath him when he managed to hit the very back of his mate’s throat, so absorbed in finding that hidden gland that he knew was present in almost all Nameks, that he didn’t even feel it when talons dug into his shoulders and reflexively tried to push him away.

Piccolo’s head jerked back involuntarily when his lover repeated the action with more speed and force; his eyes scrunched up and breathless grunts of discomfort pushed past his captured lips. He could do nothing but try to outlast the sensory overload as Gohan persisted in attacking that hypersensitive spot deep in his throat that he didn’t even know he had; drool dripped copiously down his chin by then; mouth completely held hostage by the boy.

 _‘G-Gohan!’_  Piccolo wheezed into their mind-link.

 _‘Does it feel good, Piccolo-san?’_  Gohan queried with genuine concern despite the cold, hard tone his voice usually assumed when he was engulfed in his more advanced Super Saiyajin form.  _‘Do you want me to stop?’_

_‘I-it feels good… but strange… I don’t know if… my body can handle any more…’_

Gohan pulled back, panting as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand—giving them both the much-needed pause to catch their breaths—his Super Saiyajin second form unfaltering.

 _‘It’s kind of hard to explain…’_  he returned through their mental link; quite sure that verbally explaining to his innocent lover that he was  _on the verge of what was most likely to be his very first orgasm_ wasn’t going to ease his sexual unease.  _‘I think it will better if I just showed you…’_

“Just trust me, Piccolo-san.” Gohan susurrated confidently against Piccolo’s slightly parted quivering lips. “I promise,  _it’ll be great._ ” To which he received a furious blush and shaky nod in response.

Gohan resumed kissing him—gentler this time, and Piccolo actively kissed back. Only this time, to the hybrid teenager’s surprise, silken palms and clawed fingers moved over his chest, mirroring what was being done to him earlier. His breathing hitched when those fingers snagged his pert nipples, making the liquid desire in his belly churn much faster. And as kisses and caresses got more and more assertive, the heat in their bodies started to become unbearable, the lust in their loins blinding, and their Ki levels neared critical.

Gohan knew he would not be able to hold out for much longer. His Namekian lover was an incredibly fast learner. Taking a hint from his own actions and reactions, those soft and yet strong palms had resorted to kneading over his chest with sure strokes until his teeth were chattering from how pebble-hard and tender his twin nubs had become. If he didn’t do something quick, he would go over the edge before he could do Piccolo that honour; and he had vowed that he was going to put his beloved Namek’s needs before his own for a change— _there was no way in HFIL he was going to let it be the other way around again on his special day!_

Piccolo’s hands are (ruefully) disengaged from his chest and coaxed to keep his gorgeously long legs where Gohan had pushed it—daringly far apart and fully exposing his intimacies. All the while, their lips struggled to stay connected—although it was more of arbitrary snaps and bites and swirling of tongues now—both of them too far gone to keep their concentration on the kiss; the painful throbbing in their groins much too distracting. The alien sensation of fingers slowly sliding into that slippery heat in between his thighs forced a violent gasp from Piccolo; lips parting and eyes widening in shock.

“Gohan!” Piccolo’s eyes brimmed with wetness when he felt his opening sheath more of those stout fingers that had been entreating.

“P-Piccolo-san!” Gohan grunted through clenched teeth, concentrating with all his might to keep from just plunging in right there and then with reckless abandon; his own need pulsed even harder in protest from being ignored for so long.

They clumsily found each other’s lips again (though, it was more of Gohan who found Piccolo’s to resume kissing because the Namek was unable to do much other than sob and whimper at that point). Those thick fingers were building into a steady pumping rhythm now, gradually increasing the depth of each calculated thrust, careful not to dive in too deep too soon. The hybrid teen vigilantly gauged his lover’s reactions while interspersing gentle rolling and twisting motions with each plunge; massaging Piccolo’s pulsing inner walls until the Namek was soaked and shuddering senseless. Breathless moans and incoherent pleas spilled from bruised green lips; his Saiyajin lover’s name melding in and out of the euphony.

At the very precipice of losing control, Gohan mustered all his will and concentration to keep himself from coming right there. Piccolo, the one creature that he has adored all his life, was writhing in delirious pleasure beneath him, and he all but drooled as he feasted his eyes on the heart-stopping view; his soul teeming with bliss and gratitude at being the one given the honour of making love to this perfect body and soul that he has secretly worshipped and desired since forever. He bit his lip hard as his bursting arousal continued to pulse wildly for attention; silently begging it to hold out just for a little bit more…

“Aaahhh-nngh!!!”

Piccolo’s voice is ripped from his chest in a hard, drawn-out howl. Blinding white fireworks erupted in his vision when those fingers hit a hypersensitive nerve inside him, triggering violent tremors coursing through every fibre of his body from that one spot. Gohan aimed for that pleasure point again and pressed  _hard_ – watching with heavily hooded eyes as his beautiful Namekian arched off the ground perilously, convulsing as wave upon wave of absolutely divine pleasure wracked his body over and over again until all resistance and energy from it had been depleted.

When Piccolo finally collapsed back down to earth, spineless and out of breath, Gohan ever-so-gently retracted his fingers and leaned up to plant tender kisses on those lovely drool-stained lips, feeling a rush of warmth flood through him when his gesture is reciprocated albeit weakly.

_Piccolo-san… I love you…!_

 

**_To be concluded…_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***Tadaima** – (Japanese culture/expression) I’m home. 
> 
> ***Okaerinasai** – (Japanese culture/expression) Welcome home.
> 
>  ***love letters** – From my **“Eyes Only For You”** story.
> 
>  ***home-cooked food** – Heck, in the canon even at a very young age he is very neat and organized, he can sew his own clothes, do house chores well, repair machinery, and build things (like a boat) from scratch. Why not throw in cooking skills to the whole genius  & perfect guy package? It’s not such a stretch to imagine for me and my muse; his mother is an excellent cook after all. (We do think Gohan is the most perfect darling Saiyajin in this series.)
> 
>  ***Aa** – (Japanese, informal usage) roughly equivalent to ‘yeah’.
> 
>  ***Kami no Shinden** – God’s Temple / Kami’s Temple. I retained it because it’s a play of words. ‘Kami’ is ‘God’ in Japanese, and (as you all surely already know) is also the name of Nameless’ pure soul counterpart.
> 
>  ***recognition** – The significance of the tulip beds will be explained in my future stories.
> 
>  ***yokatta** – Roughly “thank goodness”, or “that’s great/good”.
> 
>  ***involuntary wince** – A headcanon from **“Eyes Only For You”**.
> 
>  ***Ne** – Roughly ‘hey’ or 'uhm'.


	3. Our Destiny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dreams…? Or lost memories?

『恨んだら、自分の運命を恨むんだな。俺のように。』  
   ** _"If_** **_you feel resentful, resent your fate. It's what I do."_**

* * *

 

_He was lost, tired, and hungry after having been chased by the Earth’s inhabitants again._

Four long years of endless training and playing hide and seek with the ones who hunted him and he was just about fed up with boredom. Even if it was fun at first—using the puny Earthlings to test his skills and watching them scamper away in fright— _surely,_  there was something more to being alive than this? What was so rewarding in wanting to get stronger just to bully the weak? What deep satisfaction was to be gained from such buffoonery in the long run?

Was this really what his sire lived for— _what was destined for him as well?_  

Oh, how he hated his life! All he ever did was train, run away, and wander aimlessly. The world had nothing he was interested in; all its riches never held any meaning to him, and all their weapons never good enough a challenge. He knew it well, of course. That he was brought into this world for but one purpose; and that purpose wasn’t to amuse himself. But it didn’t alter the fact that his existence was a mundane and meaningless one.

So many unanswered questions relentlessly harangued his mind. He knew his powers were far stronger than all his erstwhile brethren and yet he didn’t understand:  _why was he born so small and so weak? Why was it taking so long for him to grow up? Why didn’t his sire simply birth him big and strong like the rest of his brothers?_   It took him more than two years— _two and a half long and arduous years_ —of nonstop training, just to be able to master a highly advanced aging technique that temporarily allowed him to gain a more formidable appearance along with increased strength and power. He thought that he had finally reached the apogee of his powers and was  _finally_  ready to achieve his goal. But he had been disgracefully proven wrong. 

_It still wasn’t enough to defeat that accursed monkey boy who had slain his sire!_

He begrudgingly glared up at the darkening sky as if the perpetrator of his prolonged misery was skulking behind the innocent looking camouflage. After his humiliating defeat at the * _Tenkaichi Budoukai_  Tournament he tried maintaining his adult form for the weeks that followed but the tremendous strain it required proved too much for his still weakened state, and he eventually collapsed from exhaustion. He woke up days later—and much to his frustration—reverted to his three-year-old body, greatly etiolated and mockingly imprisoned in some scientific facility, where he spent what little energy he had left in breaking free and escaping from.

He had no memory of everything in-between or what was done to him there, but finding that he still hadn’t recovered his strength forced him to resort to what he used to do before the induced aging process, which was staying out at sea in order to recuperate. This was the only way he could steer clear of the Earthlings and other predators who wished to harm him in times when he deemed fighting futile. The boats that drifted idly in the middle of the sea had relatively laissez-faire occupants and provided the ideal sanctuary as long as he stayed in the shadowy parts of their vessel. The Earthlings on board usually just fished, drunk, and slept; they couldn't care less about little green pointy-eared goblins and their kin and simply left him to his devices.

However, it seemed that tonight, there would be no rest for him. The farther the sun sunk into the horizon, the more he found himself lost deeper in a dense forest, driven far away from his usual turf. He supposed he could scare off a bunch of humans from their dwellings that night to scavenge for something since he hasn’t had any proper nourishment since he had been captured. He was famished and badly injured hence too weak to hunt. (Being an Earth-born Namek and hybrid like his sire required that he have something more substantial than pure water to aid in his recovery and growth from time to time. Besides, Earth water never seemed to satisfy him.)

He had been trekking aimlessly for some hours when his ear began to itch. It was picking up a sound beyond his tolerance – stentorian and quite poignant. By now, he was well acquainted with the atrocious stridency: _the noise of a crying infant_. 

_One of the noises he abhorred the most._

Normally, his reaction would have been to fly as far away from the source of the noise as fast as possible; but where there was an infant meant that there was also a house nearby. And usually, Earthlings with offspring took minimal effort to scare off—which was just the amount of effort he had to spare at the moment. Peculiarly, there was something about this specific infant’s vocal register that vexed him more than usual; something so inimical and lacerating to his acute sensibilities that he found himself zeroing in on it at top speed the very next moment, fully intending to mutilate the little monster’s larynx for good.

He soon emerged in a clearing and spotted the pram that carried the culprit, conspicuously all by its lonesome in the middle of a spacious glade, that his approach was easily welcomed without any deterrents. At that point, his ears were pulsating and numb from intense pain and the only thought that possessed him then was stemming the source of the infernal upheaval. He was at the edge of the carrycot in one bound, claws diving towards the creature below the canopy with the speed of a striking snake.

But right before his lengthened talons could cut into flesh, they stop—and as if stirring from a trance, he blinks, disorientated, surprised to see his own lethal dagger-like nails hovering a millimetre away from his tiny victim’s neck; not remembering why he was doing it nor comprehending what compelled him to halt. But then, he realized that he was distracted from his undertaking by one most riveting detail…

 

_The small Earthling had stopped crying!_

 

The infant, presumably a human—judging by its appearance alone—had indeed fallen perfectly silent. Its big and very curious eyes were fixated on him, wet trails still running down its cheeks and nose. It made for one bizarre scene. A Namekian child and an Earthling infant frozen in each other's stunned gazes as though that moment in time itself had been freeze-framed. But what followed shortly after that was even more shocking…

 

_The human baby began to smile._

 

First, the corner of its lips slowly turned upwards then it’s maws parted wide, exposing pink tongue and gums with a single emerging tooth. Next, its chestnut-brown doe-eyes lit up like a shimmering pool of constellations—completing a very odd (and rather hideous) picture of what the Namek surmised was  _mirth_. He had never seen anything like it nor had he foresaw such a reaction – that he remained unmoving, utterly (and quite horrifically) spellbound…

He had only ever seen Earthlings joyful from a distance; partying and being merry, doing stupid Earthling things. But the moment those happy celebrating simpletons caught sight of him, their smiles would transform into frowns and their laughter to screams.  _Fear, terror, dread, and hatred_ … Those were the only emotions he had ever managed to garner from Earth’s inhabitants all his life.

Thus, seeing an Earthling infant smile so gleefully at the sight of him was a very strange and suspicious thing to behold indeed. And as if that wasn’t insulting enough, as though the insignificant and infinitesimal bundle of “human” understood his befuddled predicament–  _it began to laugh_ _!_

High-pitched hearty chortles rose up from its bellows, curdling his mood into an even sourer state than it had already been minutes ago. But surprisingly, he could no longer back up that knowledge with conviction. He felt irritated, yes; but he was no longer angry nor feeling threatened enough to pursue his original objective of maiming the insufferable creature’s vocal cords.

His hand pulled back a smidgeon, but a horrible ominous fog lingered in his mind, as though he had just narrowly escaped being manipulated by a force outside of himself—one that had no qualms about killing a defenceless child—into doing something that he normally had no desire to. He knew he was born for less than noble reasons, but all the same, senseless killing was beyond someone with superior intellect like him; no, that wasn’t how he operated. Whether it was a flaw in his sire’s  _Pokopen_  process or something intentional, he didn’t know yet. He was born with his own will, that much he knew. And that unique will of his never relished the idea of bullying the weak the way his sire did. He shuddered inwardly at what could have been had he not broken free of what he now recognized as his sire’s bloodlust. It surfaced from time to time, usually when he was being threatened. It served him well when he needed to defend himself but never before had he lost himself to it—overcome by it so completely for a good number of minutes as it did now.

While all those thoughts and feelings were running through his mind, his eyes had half-consciously remained locked on to the infant’s, watching its every move in case the smiles and laughter were a ruse to throw him off guard and spring an attack. (He had never been curious enough to approach Earthling babies before, and even if he knew they supposedly had little to no power at all, most Earthlings—regardless of age, size or shape—had only ever been hostile towards him. Due to that, he was always vigilant, regardless.) The thrilled warbling giggles went on and off but the smile never wavered even for a heartbeat. The child was staring at him like it had no idea what angels or demons really looked like, nor did it seem to care. Somehow, the idea made him pull away a little bit more but the action was stopped short, and this time, the Earthling’s latest antic left him positively scandalized…

 

_Two of his fingers were suddenly enclosed within the infant’s own!_

 

The strength of the tiny tyke’s hold was shocking; but more so– was the warmth flowing all over his body, one he’s never felt before. It was the very first time he’s ever been made to feel a welcoming touch, the first time he had ever been this close to another living thing and for this long without being harmed or hated. A maelstrom of entirely alien sensations and emotions inundated and blanketed his being along with that heat, and all because of that singular contact. He knew he should pull away and flee, but he was too thunderstruck.  _Was this creature truly delighted to see him?_ So much so, that it even went as far as to make physical contact with him? _Surely, that was preposterous, right?_  That's how he forced rationale upon it, but all the same… He couldn't find the strength to pull away. He stayed like that for a while, heart anxiously hammering in his chest and…

For the very first time in all four years of his life… He felt a most peculiar chaotic but peaceful emotion washing over him like…

_Tiny balls of light in his chest— swirling, dancing, and colliding; bursting into spectacular fireworks, repeatedly stoking and igniting the embers already burning there…_

_'Could this feeling be what they called…'_ he thought to himself. __'Am I actually…__

 

_'…Happy?'_

 

Reluctantly, and with more effort than he thought the action would require, he pulled away and quickly fled from the clearing back into the shelter of the woods. No sooner had he concealed his presence behind a tree did the source of the grating noise that had alerted him of an approaching Earthling make itself known…

 _A female Earthling_  whose screeching rivalled the ear-splitting wails of an enraged banshee. It was so painful to his ears that that he couldn't even bring himself to look at the owner of the voice; reduced to a curled ball of agony on the forest floor. He realized after a while, that the infant too, had resumed its accursed bawling as soon as he had pulled away and left it, except that its cries were much louder and more vehement than before.

He wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination playing tricks on him, but the creature’s wails also now sounded absolutely grief-stricken and he did not know why it affected him deeply, making him feel as though he had swallowed an anvil that was now wedged in his chest. The comforting flames there only moments ago were snuffed out completely by the alien kind of pain settling along with it.

That very ache in his chest that he didn’t quite understand no matter how hard he endeavoured to, compelled him return to that glade more times than he deemed reasonable; but only after several long months wherein he tried his best to stay away and forget everything that had occurred that day – without success. More often than not, he would find no sign of the infant and he would leave right away, fooling himself that the disappointment he felt was actually relief.

In one of those chance visits, after he had seen the field empty and turned to leave, he was stopped dead in his tracks by the sound of squeaking wheels moving at fantastic speed. He barely had enough time to ascertain what it was and what was happening; managing to fly in just in time to stop the pram’s plunge downhill right before it smashed into a thickly packed boscage of trees. By the time he managed to haul the vehicle to safety, his tiny “human acquaintance” was crying so hard and so loud that it made tears prickle his eyes. But he endured the pain as he climbed up the carrycot to peer at its occupant, who amazingly– stopped crying as soon as it assimilated the sight of him.

After witnessing, and luckily, managing to intervene in some three or more near-fatal accidents like the one he had managed to prevent then—with no sign of the infant’s parents to be found even after—he decided that it was no random mischance anymore, but the result of appalling carelessness. Owing to that discovery, he felt obligated somehow, to watch over the child ever since. Although, he didn’t always appear unless the baby started crying or was in imminent danger from its parents’ habitual negligence—which shockingly, happened too often. He had managed to convince himself that he only approached the baby and showed his face each time, not because he wanted to see the thing smile; but because it was the only thing that placated its distress without fail.

It didn’t take long for him to discover the boy’s true identity. And of course, he doubled his efforts to stay away after that. But somehow… He couldn’t. Naturally, the knowledge that the first creature who had ever seemed to like him was the son of the one he was destined to kill had shot down whatever hopes and dreams he had of a more fulfilling existence. If anything, the discovery caused his heart to sink back into that abysmal darkness and caused him to be even more resentful of his fate.

Despite this, their curious encounters went on, until the toddler could walk and explore the forest on its own. The young Namek continued to watch over him from afar, faithfully coming to his aid whenever necessary. He managed to accomplish these while gradually diminishing his visible presence to the child. Remarkably, he sensed that the toddler knew that he was there all the same, because it didn’t cry as much anymore and his ears often caught heartfelt ‘thank you’s seemingly whispered to the wind.

One day, while he was training nearby, he heard the boy accidentally knock down a beehive it had been examining, instantly putting him under the wrath of a swarm of bees. Because the bees were harder to eliminate from a distance—unlike snakes or tigers, they weren’t only fast but attacked in great numbers, thus, more difficult to scare off with energy blasts—the five-year-old Namek reacted before he could think.

He jumped out in front of the boy and whisked him away from danger. But before he could retreat out of sight after his rescue, a tug at the hem of his tunic kept him in place. He cursed his rashness, noting instantly how the boy was much faster and stronger now, going by how efficiently he had been detained. Unable to move, he soon found himself face to face with the boy for the first time in many months, only this time, the boy didn’t smile or laugh. Instead, those brown eyes and red lips wore an expression of utter confoundedness.

 _Of course,_  the Namek grimaced inwardly.  _The boy was not a clueless infant anymore._  It was no longer ignorant of what belligerent and dangerous creatures lurked the earth— _of what angels and demons looked like._  He felt his heart clench, knowing that with his inhuman and menacing appearance, being feared and shunned  _by everyone_  was inevitable. The boy was going to yell for help and call him a monster any minute now like everyone else always did; and he squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the worst.

After some minutes of nothing happening—no shouting, screaming, not even crying—he dared to open his eyes for a small peek…

 _…_ To find the boy still gaping at him in… Not fear, but…  _awe?_

“A-Are you an elf…? Or- or maybe _…_  a faerie?!”

His eyes slowly opened wide in disbelief. He was still trapped in the boy’s hold, only it had moved more securely to his wrist.

“I knew it!” The boy’s eyes lit up suddenly. “You're _…_   _my guardian angel! Aren’t you?_  I knew you were real! I can’t believe I’ve finally caught you!”

The Namek panicked a little at that and attempted to break free, but the hand gripping his wrist is reinforced by another.

“Oh no, please, don’t be afraid! I- I’m not going to hurt you! I- I just want to, to thank you! for… uhm, always saving me. T-thank you very much, err—kind sir.” The boy was bowing his head low before him, but his fingers did not loosen its hold.

Then it happened. The boy looked up at him _…_  

 

_And smiled._

 

That old familiar heat was back, making a hearth of his chest and his cheeks. He hadn’t seen that smile in such a long time that he was caught completely off-guard, disarmed by its sincere ebullience.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, how do you do? My name is Gohan, Son Gohan Jr! What’s yours?”

The boy called Gohan leaned in when he got no immediate response and cautiously whispered, “It’s okay, I understand.” The Namek flinched from the ticklish sensation. “I know guardian angels need to keep a lot of things secret, right? For now, I’ll just call you _,_ hmm…" The boy peered down at the symbol on his tunic. "Hmm… ‘Ma’…? Ma-chan! Would that be okay? You can call me Goh-chan or Han-chan or whatever you wish too!”

Before he knew what was happening, the boy broke into a run, pulling him along. His breath hitched as the feel of lissom lips tenderly pressing against his cheek arrested him when they arrived in the glade where they first met. A searing warmth from that area began to spread all over his body as tingly currents, throwing him into an even more flustered state; that even when the boy had finally released his arm and pinned a blushing orange tulip behind his ear, he remained rooted to the spot, unable to do much else but be absolutely stupefied.

 

 _"I like you, Ma-chan! Can we please be friends?"_  

 

 ** _To be concluded_**   _(for real)_ ** _…_**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***Tenkaichi Budoukai** – The Japanese name of the martial arts tournament which means something like:  “Number One(Best) On Earth(In The World) Martial Arts Meet”.
> 
> Just one final chapter to go...! (*3*)9♥︎


	4. Of Dreams & Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two destined souls finally consummate their love (properly), for the first time. **Warning:** Explicit overdoses of sap, sentimentality, and smex ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Special Dedication:**  
>  To the cool lady who kept me real, on track, and inspired in the midst of some of the worst weeks of my life... (First off, sorry for the lateness.) While I am not sure if you like this particular story of mine, this is one of my most favourites of all, and if not for you, I may not have been able to write this (or anything else anymore for that matter). So I dedicate this concluding chapter to you with all my love! I know I'm awfully late, but I wish you more rockin' happy birthdays! (Butts always!) Keep smiling. ♥︎

_Not elf nor faerie…_

_But demon._

_A demon destined is to crush your father and claim his throne as rightful king of this world._

_If you knew the truth…_

_Would you still have wanted me as a friend?_

* * *

> _Nameks are soulful creatures. This is what makes their godlike mystic powers possible and no less than remarkable. They uphold soulful practice in everything they do. This is why they cannot commit themselves to anything with less than their full soul._
> 
> _The only time a Namek gives their body is when they wish to give their soul._
> 
> _Soul-giving is not essentially a mutually interdependent practice. A Namek may choose to devote themselves to a cause or to one who is already devoted to another._
> 
> _This is by no means considered a loss but a privilege. To be able to offer oneself is of the highest honour – one that demands no reciprocation. The concept of Namekian love is one consummated by the act of giving in itself. Wholly and faithfully; without conditions, validation, or guarantees._
> 
> _That is all and everything there is to it._
> 
> _That, to a Namek, is what it means to love._

_\- Excerpts from the sacred Namekian codex that was once lost in time._

* * *

Swaying canopies overhead cast a shimmering halo of muted sunbeams over the amorous face above him; a kaleidoscopic mesh of butterflies gathering behind strong shoulders formed smouldering wings.

Piccolo Daimaoh Jr. knew his eyes were already open. But he blinked again; once, twice – for good measure.

 

“Welcome back, _Piccolo-san._ ”

 

Waking up to a lover’s greeting: the sunny smile just for him, followed by a feathery nudge of lips, and punctuated by an Eskimo kiss—

 

“ _Gohan._ ”

 

It wasn’t bad at all. There was a part of him already looking forward to it and it terrified him somewhat… How that part was growing—reshaping him; rearranging the very structure of his world…

 

_Could it be…?_

 

That someone like him was meant to have something like this?

 

A wonderful destiny…

 

**-x-**

 

_Am I truly awake?_

**-x-**

 

Nameks did not normally dream. Sleeping was not customary for Nameks to develop, function, or regain strength. Even when they _did_ sleep, they never did so long enough nor deep enough to experience it. Typical Namekian sleep constituted entering a brief hibernation-like phase where special brain waves that placed the mind in a deeper state of rest without going into REM were put into play.

Dreaming to Nameks was quite like what unicorns were to humans – _the stuff of folklore._

Being an Earth-born Namek, Piccolo knew how to sleep the way humans did. He just never found much practical use for it.

The rare times he _did_ sleep (often when passed out from extreme exhaustion or knocked unconscious in battle), his dreams were passive, lucid ones—ones he was always fully aware of.

For some reason– the only dreams Piccolo ever had were of long-forgotten memories; as clear-cut and vivid as waking reality itself. Never an assemblage of arbitrary albeit somewhat cohesive symbolisms; altogether whimsical and fanciful, though every bit real enough in their own right.

Put simply:  _nothing at all like human dreams._

Generally, those memories he dreamt were echoes of Kami’s or his sire’s past; of a life and time much older than his reborn soul. Sporadically, one or two of Nail’s would get thrown in. Whatever it happened to be, he was forever an outside spectator to it even if they were as good as his.

The only dreams that belonged to him— the only memories that he knew for certain were his own—were of _Gohan._ Often before, that’s the only way Piccolo could discern that he was “asleep”. Those were the closest thing to human dreams he ever had.

Ironically, even when awake, everything to do with Son Gohan Jr. felt like a dream to him; if not a more breathable, tangible surreality…  _A reality forever beyond his reach…_

Being bonded to Gohan was like severing that already nebulous distinction in his mind between wakefulness and dreaming. So much so, that he strongly suspected his present reality might just be part of one long-winding and intricate dream that he would eventually wake up from…

To find himself lost and alone all over again…

As was his morose, lacklustre world, pre-Gohan.

 

**-x-**

 

_Bonded…?_

 

**-x-**

 

Piccolo sat bolt upright, barely avoiding a forehead collision with his companion who had fallen on his rear in startlement.

“P-P… Piccolo-san…?”

The Namek remained silent for some suspended moments, adorning a faraway look. Before he finally turned to his partner and said:

“We… have not yet performed… sexual union.”

At that, Gohan’s jaw fell slack. It was the boy’s turn to feel disorientated about whether he was dreaming or not.

The hybrid teenager was about to pinch himself in the cheek to reaffirm that he was awake, when his lover beat him to it. Only– it was a little off the mark.

“Waahh!”

The ebony-haired youth’s legs snapped together in reflex as his still very much unresolved (and very tender) hardness was cupped and squeezed.

“P-P-P-P-Piccolo-san??!!”

“I knew it!” was all the Namek had to say after his deed, even as the half-breed’s teary eyes addressed him in shock and confusion.

Fully intent on attending to his beloved Namek’s pleasure before all else, Gohan’s own “need” had been left unattended since Piccolo had drifted off over thirty minutes ago.

Normally, that specific “problem” could have been easily resolved with a dose of good old-fashioned “self-help”. But it was pointless. Not while his beautiful Namek lay there sound asleep, looking for all the world like a fallen angel.  _It was too rare a treat to pass up!_

Piccolo hardly ever opted to sleep on his own if a situation didn’t impose it. And although he didn’t look any less enchanting to Gohan then, this time, as opposed to all the times the green-skinned warrior blacked out from battle injuries, he looked so serene and peaceful. To the Super Namek’s number one and most avid admirer in the world, the sight was no less than thrilling to behold! It has, after all, always been one of Gohan’s secret guilty pleasures to watch Piccolo sleep.

Thus, no matter how many times he tried to “relieve his need” then, the mouth-watering visage of his reposing lover so vulnerable and sinfully naked was going to keep him turned on anyway.

Said mouth-watering, naked lover blinked up at him, before pointing to the angry bulge standing tall and proud in his crotch area and saying matter-of-factly:

“You need to put that inside me to complete the act, am I correct?”

Thankfully, he wasn’t as prone to it as his mother, but Gohan felt like he was on the verge of a bite-size mental breakdown; unable to process how to respond to words he least expected to hear from Piccolo, of all creatures.

Just as off-kilter, his mentor continued to pay little heed to his befuddlement. True, Piccolo was still being attentive to his favourite pupil like he always was—just not to him per se, but more specifically, to an area of him much lower…

The Namek’s antennae twitched minutely, seemingly engaged in some secret form of communication with his lover’s prominent “hardship” which bounced friskily in response to the naughty touch it received earlier from the green apple of its eye, valiantly trying to burst out to meet its mate from the torn jeans that Gohan had worn for the meantime as he waited for—

“Did I fall asleep?”

Gohan managed a dumb nod.

“Crud,” muttered Piccolo to himself. “It’s these flowers…”

His mentor’s behaviour was so uncharacteristic all of a sudden that Gohan couldn’t help but worry.  _Did the sexual experience they shared just minutes ago cause Piccolo’s personality to be altered somehow? Was the pleasure too much for his beloved’s reserved mind?_ He was sure he hadn’t read anything about physical intimacy having drastic or adverse effects on Nameks (yes, he had, in fact, done his research beforehand)…

Gohan knew that with the less complicated option of asexual reproduction available to Nameks– intraspecific sexual intercourse was not a requisite. Sex was almost exclusively a method of reproduction dedicated to complex interspecific breeding when combining and passing on genetic attributes of another outside their species to their offspring was the goal. Furthermore, unlike the bigger part of the hot-blooded galaxy, Nameks weren’t libidinous creatures by nature; therefore, weren’t exactly adventurous nor reckless with whom they “blended” with. Sexual intimacy was preternatural of the Namekian race’s traditional customs and—depending on whom they were mating with and why—could have a broad range of possible repercussions; most of which have yet to be documented, simply because most likely it has never yet been done before.

Even for a highly adaptable and versatile race like the Namekians or for the aggressive spacefaring and indiscriminately miscegenetic Saiyajins, it could be said that theirs was a maverick of interspecific unions. How often do a Namek and a Saiyajin—both highly-evolved  _super hybrids_  of their kind—fall in love and decide to stir up the already diverse evolutionary gene pool? If they mated and successfully produced offspring, a combination as unheard of as theirs would undoubtedly be the first in the history of time—and quite possibly also the last. There was no way to predict the outcome of such a mating, not with no antecedent to go by…

Notwithstanding, Gohan wasn’t even thinking that far into the future. All he was really concerned about then was his dearest Namek’s well-being. (Of course, the half-Saiyajin considered that this could simply be how Namekians normally behaved when stricken with the biological imperative to mate, but all the same, he wanted to be sure.)

A timid hand reached out to feel Piccolo’s forehead for a fever, even if the owner of the hand knew that Nameks’ temperatures were almost always perfectly stable and that they were almost never afflicted with any of the most common illnesses. That hand was promptly grabbed and deftly pulled closer along with the rest of Gohan until their noses were almost touching.

“Shall we pick up where we left off?” Piccolo murmured huskily.

“P-p-pick… u-u-uuhhh…”

“I’m sorry for falling asleep. We can have proper sex now.”

“P-pro… uuuhhh…?” Gohan swallowed with some difficulty as he felt his erection painfully stiffen further. “O-o-okay…”

“Are you alright?”

“Huh…? Uh, me? Y-yeah, I’m great! Heh! Everything’s great! –More than great! Ha-ha! How about you, Piccolo-san?”

“I’m fine.”

Unblinking pools of fiery amethysts bore into mud-brown counterparts; calm and collected but possessed of steely determination. And it was more than enough to absolve Gohan of all apprehension.

They moved in, decreasing the space between them until there was none; their mouths grazed and melded, tongues eagerly meeting and frolicking.

“That’s good… Mmnn… More than good…” Gohan sighed as Piccolo’s lips found his neck. “I just… I didn’t expect you to be so… mmmnhh…  _forthright_.”

“I’m always forthright,” Piccolo purred amidst gentle nip-kisses. Then after a pensive pause wherein his ear was in turn nibbled on, “Is that a bad thing… when it comes to sex?”

Gohan reluctantly disengaged from Piccolo’s ear. “Oh, no! Not at all! At least– I don’t think it is… Especially since… we’re  _lovers_ now _._ ” The sentence ended in a breathy whisper as tingles of excitement travelled up his spine. He grinned up at his mate goofily, eyes half-masts and cheeks on fire. “It’s actually darn-awfully  _cute_.”

Running the gamut of all names he’s ever been called, Piccolo still couldn’t comprehend where “cute” figured into the general picture of him. He’s established that “cute” was a term Earthlings used on kittens, bunnies, and new-born babies… So far, he’s never heard anyone use it on giant, green-skinned demons, except Gohan. But, he supposed that if Gohan used it on him…

“Cute is good, right?”

“Uh-huuhh…”

Gohan’s breath is stolen from him as he is smoothly pushed onto the cushy ground and kissed some more. Piccolo’s lissom lips moved over his so expertly and confidently, as though it hadn’t just learned what a kiss was only a few hours ago; it felt so incredible that he was hard-pressed to keep up.

Gratified hums and grunts vibrated off their chests as tongues probed, fenced, and twirled; their hips ground none-too-gently into each other’s already aching, hypersensitive groins. At some point, Gohan’s jeans were plucked off of him (or torn off?) and tossed somewhere out of the way—by who or how, they didn’t know anymore.

The half-Saiyajin was so utterly floored by this new come-hither assertive side that his innocent lover was exhibiting; the Earth-born Namek has, after all, always been the most naïve grown-up of all the Z-Senshi—specifically to do with matters of romance. But Gohan knew that when it came to Piccolo, unsophisticated naiveté didn’t necessarily equate to ignorance. Even for ordinary people, it was possible to know things hypothetically without first-hand experience – instinct was a terrific repository of boundless knowledge when harmonized fully with adaptive intellect.

For all his inexperience, Piccolo was a genius in his own right; sagacious beyond his age and having access to wisdom as far-reaching and infinite as time itself. It shouldn’t really have come as a surprise that his brilliant lover learned so fast and suddenly knew things he previously did not. And yet, in spite of that fairly logical premise, the demi-Saiyajin was discovering many things about himself as well – things he didn’t know before. He never thought himself a jealous and paranoid type of lover, but when it came to his lifelong infatuation, he realized how impossible it was not to be. In Gohan’s mind, there was no other creature more desirable and alluring than  _his dearest and most revered Piccolo-sama_.

“I have not been sexually involved with anyone else, if that is what you’re thinking,” Piccolo stated with an impressively straight face when he unhooked his lips to stare at his lover.

“Gah!” Gohan reddened. “P-Piccolo-san! Don’t randomly read my mind like that, it’s embarrassing!”

“I didn’t.”

The hybrid-Saiyajin knew Piccolo cared about him as much as any former megalomaniac ever could about anything. But reformed as he was, being attuned to the mood of the battlefield always came more naturally to the taciturn warrior than being perceptive about people’s feelings, and yet, just now…

Gohan couldn’t stay flustered for long—not when his darling dearest kept blowing his mind.  _His Namek was just so full of surprises today!_

“You’re amazing,” Gohan cooed, crushing purple-hued green lips in a bruising kiss, pouring into it what he could of his inexhaustible, undying adoration for the man.

_‘I just… can’t stand the thought of you not being all mine—and **only mine**.’_

Piccolo blushed heavily underneath the combined assault of kisses and adulation, still not quite used to it enough to remember to counterattack. 

“I can’t imagine…” Gohan continued in between languid lip smacks. “…anyone who wouldn’t want… someone as  _perfect_  as you.”

“Well,” Piccolo scoffed light-heartedly. “ _I_  for one, can’t imagine any other Earthling dotty enough to want me—the way you do.”

“You might be surprised,” The demi-Saiyajin refuted meekly, eyes burning something fierce.

“I  _would_ ,” Piccolo quipped with one of his (indecently sexy) signature impish smirks.

Whether the Namek knew that he looked inordinately boner-worthy whenever he did that, Gohan couldn’t tell– but he wasn’t about to take the blatant seduction sitting down.

The demi-Saiyajin made sure to squelch it with vengeful open-mouthed kisses over the expanse of his lover’s elegantly corded neck; deeply inhaling, tasting, and suckling; painting the smooth jade flesh with bruises and bite marks; inwardly rejoicing when his cheeky Namek was reduced to reticent groans and whimpers. 

Soon their mouths gravitated back to each other as hands persistently roamed, tongues slow danced, and lip-locks intensified; all amidst the stifled moans and breathless utterances of each other’s names.

Bleeding, angry patterns of crimson-violet formed beneath Gohan’s nails as he wrapped his arms around the robust body atop him with even fiercer possessiveness _._

_“Piccolo-san, **all mine.** ”_

_‘Gohan…’_ Piccolo’s deep rumbling purr tickled his mind.  _‘It is irrelevant to me whether there are others who desire me or not… Because I don’t want anyone else…’_

“…I never have.”

The statement was poignant enough to freeze time for the hybrid. He stopped and stared at his most exalted mentor, dearest friend, and one truly adored lover.

“Stop fretting now,” Piccolo whispered, affectionately wiping a stray tear on his lover’s flushed cheek.

Gohan slowly sat up and flung his arms around his Namek to softly sob against his chest. Piccolo soothed the boy as best he could– fondly petting unruly ebony locks amidst gentle pats.

Finally, Gohan resurfaced and cradled Piccolo’s face; smiling reassuringly and stroking with heart-stopping gentleness.

“I love you.”

The Earth-born Namek’s own hands went up to cup the demi-Saiyajin’s fingers.

_“I know…”_

**-x-**

_There is only one thing that I have always been sure of in this life…_

**-x-**

_“I love you too, Gohan.”_

**-x-**

_There is nothing else in the world I could love more._

**-x-**

Piccolo let himself be pushed down and straddled against the soft grass…

Let his lips be claimed and kissed as his body was touched and revered.

It wasn’t so much as fulfilling a destiny as it was surrendering to it…  

Wasn’t as much of a destiny as it was fate.

**-x-**

_I never dreamed that someone with as soul as beautiful as yours could want someone like me._

_And yet, you gave me the chance to be something more than what I was meant for._

_I don’t have much to give, but this is my humble gift to you._

_My body. My soul. All of me. And even more, if I could._

_Thank you, Gohan._

_Perhaps with this…_

_I can make the dream last forever…_

**-x-**

 

Consummating their bond, with all of Gohan’s faculties intact, was an intense cathartic experience.

This is all Piccolo knew as they continued to indulge in each other in that paradisiacal flower bed within that sacred forest…

He had meant to give without expecting in return but was so thoroughly worshipped instead; kissed and held so tenderly that his heart ached from being made to feel such a fragile kind of love. _A love he knew he didn’t deserve._

But Gohan loved him. The boy’s touches left no room for doubt. Everywhere those lips perched and nestled, every sigh that tickled his skin, every sob that carried his name like it was the only thing that mattered—like he was  _truly_ the most precious thing to Gohan in the entire world…

The Earth-born Namek has only ever cried out of anger, sadness, and frustration. The only time that he had ever shed tears for other reasons before, he didn’t understand what they were.  _Relief, gratitude_ , and even  _joy_ —feelings that transcended everything that he believed his former self was capable of—was all because of Gohan. Since then, his tears, and all his emotions have always been because of and for  _only Gohan_. Even now…

Piccolo has never experienced happiness so devastating that hot tears wouldn’t stop filling his eyes and spilling down his cheeks; utterly lost as to why being loved so dearly by this one person could make his heart ache even more than being unloved and even reviled by the rest of the world. But what mystified him most was why those tears were reflected on his lover’s sweet, beguiling face.

Everything about those moments seemed magical and perfect; as though their bodies were performing a ritual that they had known since the beginning of time, and yet, was about to only have their first experience of. The lingering fragrance of the tulip beds, suffused with their mixing scents and arousal, all coalesced into an intoxicating ambrosia that more thoroughly submerged their minds in wild currents of untamed desire and unbearable bliss.

And somehow, though unspoken, they both knew it then… The tears in their eyes were their reunited souls rejoicing. They were the two star-crossed soulmates who were always meant to bond as lovers one day. And that day has finally arrived…

 

_Nothing had ever felt more right than this._

 

Only when every inch of Piccolo’s rubicund-crested, verdant flesh had been lavishly caressed by Gohan’s doting lips did the youth sweep aside long lower limbs, exposing his mate’s already ripe and dripping heat to join their bodies in the most intimate way.

Gohan palmed his lover’s inner thighs, assiduously petting the flesh there like a sculptor moulding a masterpiece; fingers teasing so close to soaking folds but not quite close enough that it only made Piccolo’s head spin faster and his limbs quake harder; so feverishly aroused by then, that he could no longer hold back the delirious moans. Barely being able to keep his eyes open only magnified the sensation of one stout, calloused digit as it slowly but surely entered his body, rolling gently and twisting from side to side in until it was deep inside – before it moved out and then back in again.

Piccolo’s breaths quickened as the finger kept repeating this process with painstaking deliberation; attempting to widen his small aperture and entrench itself deeper within his inner walls each time. When the movement could be completed with relative ease, a second finger aligned with the first one inside him, and did the same measured process, only this time, it took a little longer—which was long enough—before a third finger joined the pair.

The Earth-born Namek was a sweating, incoherent mess by then; blood steadily oozed from growing puncture wounds in his lips where his fangs were embedded—which only dug in deeper when the fingers resumed its slow pumping. This time, Gohan’s mouth enfolded the purplish-pink node proudly erect atop his mate’s florid pink mound which had swollen to a bud the size of an adult thumb. Piccolo’s uninhibited cries only rose in volume and intensity at the amplified torment. He clenched his jaw and gnashed his teeth when his opening gushed even more to compensate as it was repeatedly forced to accommodate his lover’s thick brawny digits; all the while, his sensitivity continuously swelled in size as it was fervidly slurped and suckled.

The Super Namek knew that his mate’s size defied even the “above average”, but he began to wonder just how wet and wide his half-Saiyajin lover needed him to be, and more importantly– if he was even going to be able to last for much longer. He all but wanted to beg his partner to get it on with already or he was going to go over the edge (and quite possibly—very much unintentionally—fall asleep) again, before they could complete the act.

Just when Piccolo thought his head was going to explode from overstimulation, the fingers leave his fleshy depths at last—to _finally_ be substituted by the tip of the hybrid teenager’s redoubtable hardness poised at his entrance. He was easily coaxed into a tongue-filled kiss which proved an effective momentary distraction for the impending entry—a mental preparation to go hand-in-hand with the fastidious physical one.

All of which unfortunately turned out to be—much to the green-skinned warrior’s chagrin—not nearly enough. Gohan’s first experimental push compressed his body hard into the semi-solid ground, yet only succeeded in wreaking incredible pain to his core that made his thighs shudder terrifically and tears prick his eyes.

“P-Piccolo-san, are you—?”

“I-I’m f-fine…! Just— haah… k-keep going.”

The truth was, Piccolo’s words were big for his bravado. He was disorientated and uncomfortable, and unbelievably aroused. Gohan’s impressive patience in making sure that he was richly lubricated could not help the fact that his slender lover was deceptively well-endowed; and at that moment, that manhood felt even hulkier than Piccolo remembered. All the alien feelings and sensations clashed and crashed together in one daunting wave after another in his muddled consciousness, rendering his usual equanimity momentarily out of reach.

But Piccolo was not some feeble, squeamish mortal who made a fuss over even the most physically trying situations; not any ordinary Namek either who couldn’t withstand punishment (even if he was still fairly new to this kind). He was a seasoned warrior who was no stranger to pain. No, Piccolo Daimaoh Jr. certainly wasn’t about to back down and succumb to the same mundane reasons archetypal Earthlings and their shackled minds did. He was determined to brave Gohan’s affection in its full force and in all its glory.  _He trusted Gohan._ He was going to accept the boy’s love.

Elfin ears and purple-blood stained lips were courted with hushed supplications of adoration and reassurance after Gohan’s failed first attempts which left them both light-headed and fairly winded. The half-Saiyajin had tried pushing from every angle available to him in their current position—even lifting his beloved’s hips a little higher and pressing his thighs further away but Piccolo’s muscles down there just refused to yield to his overtures. They were in a stasis, with no choice but to take a breather before they made any more attempts.

Being on the receiving end of the ridiculously drawn-out foreplay had Piccolo dizzy and drained. He too, had done what he could to assist his lover but after what seemed like endless gruelling hours of overly cautious thrusts wherein he felt that the demi-Saiyajin hesitated more than necessary, he began to feel frustrated— slightly peaky and even a tad peeved. He knew he wasn’t the more knowledgeable one when it came to this particular activity which is why he let Gohan take the lead. But in the back of his mind, Piccolo couldn’t help thinking that his partner was being excessively concerned with minimizing his discomfort in spite of how long the boy had already been enduring his own. How could Gohan even hold out this long?

But Piccolo already knew the answer to his question: Gohan was simply being the way he has always been.  _The boy was too soft when he was sober._ The ever kind-hearted, gentle, and self-sacrificing little boy he knew had simply grown into a young man. The world may not see it the way he did but he knew. This was where the boy’s true strength lies:  _in his pure and kind heart._ Even when they had been more of enemies and short of friends, despite all his cruel provocations, it was always the hardest thing in world for Gohan to do anything that he perceived would harm him. Now that they were lovers, he should have known better than to expect any less than obsessive solicitude.

Piccolo grimaced when the boy finally managed to breach past his entrance and sheathe a little more of himself than just the very tip in their second attempt – but had only managed to progress farther in by a fraction. After several more experimental thrusts to no avail, Gohan collapsed on top of his Namek.

Neither of their inexperienced minds imagined that the act of penetration alone could be as arduous and drawn-out as this; it was beginning to feel like some form of insane sensual torture. Piccolo was already sopping wet, but Gohan was having second thoughts about trying to manually stretch his lover some more before attempting the real thing…

He made to pull out when the action is stopped by gracefully long but powerful fingers suddenly clamped bruisingly around his forearms.

“D-don’t—!” Piccolo wheezed. “…Don’t pull out. L-let me adjust!”

“O-okay…” Gohan obeyed, cheeks tinting. He nuzzled his lips and nose against his beloved’s handsome chiselled face. “Piccolo-san…  _relax._ ”

“I am relaxed!” The Namek groused, cheeks and ears colouring even darker as his thighs were anchored over his lover’s sinewy shoulders and fingers reached up to massage one of his erect antennae.

“Well, then…” the demi-Saiyajin grunted as he added the tiniest pressure in an attempt to deepen their connection. “You need to relax some more.”

“Just do it, Gohan,” Piccolo rasped hoarsely, claws involuntarily digging deeper into the boy’s shoulders. He felt so woozy and enfeebled that he couldn’t tell anymore if they were still lying down, standing up, or if gravity was still working the right way.

“O-okay, b-but—”

“Stop pulling out!”

“I’m not—” Gohan set his jaw hard. It was taking all his will power to stay focused. “It’s just… You’re so… ahh- tight and— slippery, ngh! I’m getting… pushed out!” His arms which were firmly planted on either side of them for support were shaking badly; intermittent beads of sweat cascaded down the bridge of his nose. But still, he afforded his lover a weak smile. “Honestly, Piccolo-san, I don’t think even my four-year-old self would fit inside yo—  _ow!_ ”

Gohan rubbed the sore spot on his head where Piccolo’s fist had thunked him.

“Stop dawdling and just get on with it!”

“I’m not dawdling! I just don’t want to make you bleed—aaahhh!”

They both cringed as tiny shocks shot up their loins from their point of connection.

“D-don’t squeeze me, Piccolo-san…! Or  _I’ll die!_ ”

Piccolo growled in sensual agony.

“ _Uhhh, Kamisama…_ ” Gohan swooned as the vibrations travelled from his embedded tip down to his painfully taut sacs. “D-don’t do that either, please? If you don’t want me t-to f-finish right now…”

Piccolo groaned, letting his head fall back to the ground as the world continued to spin while Gohan slumped forward onto his chest. They stayed that way for some seconds.

“ _Ne_ , Piccolo-sama… You can stretch certain parts of your body at will, right? Can’t you… will yourself to get even just a little less tight down there?”

Piccolo grit his teeth. He knew that it was an innocent question—a sensible one even, and that Gohan was just trying to help… But he felt exasperated that it was even being brought up…

Sure, he can generally increase his mass and overall size—even elongate his limbs—but that required preparation and rigorous conditioning. Besides, he only acquired those skills for practical application in battle; it’s not like he practiced enlarging his sexual organs individually as part of his training (what the HFIL would he have needed that for in the first place? He didn’t even know that body part existed until recently).

“If I could do that, don’t you think I would have done it by now?” the Namek grumbled.

“Oh… You make a good point, love.” The half-breed lifted his head to his lover, a sheepish grin already in place. “Well, at least, I have a more defined picture of what I’m working with…”

“It’s not my fault you’re monstrous!” Piccolo narrowed his eyes, cheeks ablaze. “How did you get so huge anyway? It wasn’t like that when you were younger.”

“S-sorry! It’s not like I can help that part of me!” Gohan pouted. “I can’t control my growth the way Nameks do either.”

“That’s why you should just stop hesitating and shove it all in already! I’m no frail princess! I’m not breakable!”

Light-headed laughter vibrated from Gohan’s chest down to his semi-impaled hardness making Piccolo groan again.

“Uhh, Gohan… Please—ahh!”

Piccolo choked on a whine when Gohan pulled out of him all of a sudden. He was all but ready to chuck out his pride and beg further when in one swift manoeuvre, he was turned over, positioned prostrate on all fours, and straddled from behind. One pearl of sweat after another trickled down the fine tip of his nose as he felt his mate’s rock-hardness make contact with his throbbing heat. He was then teased and probed and rimmed by that hardness for what seemed like endless minutes until his limbs violently shook; he was going deaf from how loudly his heart pounded in his ears and involuntarily moans spilled unabated from his parted, quivering lips amidst stuttering breaths and clipped gasps.

Burly hands flattened over and stroked his contoured hips, giving his perfectly shaped ass globes a meaningful squeeze, before travelling down between and high up his thighs to pry both legs farther apart. The sudden action forced most of Piccolo’s weight on his forearms and incidentally with his rump stuck up higher in the air, shamelessly bared for his lover to exploit.

Those possessive hands moved back to his fully exposed buttocks, fondling and squeezing while his mate’s pulsating erection continued to torment his weeping crevice—nudging and rubbing against it without actually invading. Piccolo chewed on his lip to keep from crying out loud; talons ruthlessly raking into the ground beneath him for any sort of purchase. Whatever Gohan was doing to him, it was causing an unfamiliar pressure to build up into a rage in his core—causing him to ache desperately for a release that continually eluded him. _It was maddening._

The boy’s Ki which was fragmented and vacillating, had now consolidated into a stream of concentrated, commanding pulses – a mere heartbeat away from ascension. As much was confirmed by the strong fingers now cinching his hips like a vice. Piccolo shivered as the display of dominance is starkly contrasted by the trail of moist kisses delicately traced up the his spine.

“Piccolo-sama…” Gohan mewled low and breathy against his skin. “You’ll  _always_  be my princess.”

The wind is knocked out of Piccolo’s system the very next moment as the demi-Saiyajin’s impossibly thick girth barrelled inside him and filled him to the brim in one swift and blindingly punishing thrust.

A fantastic scream rent Piccolo’s throat as everything whited out in a brilliant explosion of stars. By the time the white spots cleared from his vision, it was blurry with hot, stinging wetness; saliva steadily trailed down from his lips, as he was, for some time, unable to close his mouth.

Gohan was an obedient lover, he did exactly as he was told and didn’t hold back the slightest.

In those time-stopping seconds, the Namek’s mind went completely blank. All he could register was the glorious feeling of fullness intermingling with searing hot pain burning through every fibre of his being. Involuntary tremors wracked his entire body, teeth chattered, and lungs laboured for air like he had just dived a hundred miles underwater and back in one thin breath. The hybrid-Saiyajin was buried so deep and stretching him so magnificently that his groin area had gone partially numb—every space in him felt occupied to bursting that even oxygen couldn’t find its way to his lungs.

Even then, he wanted to turn around and grab his lover to remind him to cut to the chase already when he was suddenly placated with soothing kisses to his ears and nape. But his body was still reeling with aftershocks from the force of the intrusion and in his current position he could barely move, let alone make demands. He was entirely at the mercy of Saiyajin lover.

With the kisses to his back and neck unabated, one of Gohan’s muscular hands palmed his chest while the other slinked down to zero in on their point of joining. Piccolo’s eyes scrunched up as fingers richly lathered itself in his dribbling silky dew before moving to his engorged nub which had now grown to a Namek’s version of a penis. Gohan ensconced the organ in his hand and massaged the length of it; his thumb delicately kneading the hyper-sensitive tip. He continued this, building into a rhythm as he eased out of his beloved’s body and slid back inside to the hilt – synchronizing his movements and slowly escalating into a frenetic tempo.

“Nng-ahnnn!! Aaaaahhhh!”

The noises from his mouth sounded so needy even to his own ears that it made his cheeks sizzle, and yet— he was helpless to stop the steady stream of frenzied grunts and bleats that were being pushed out of him with every pull and plunge of that delicious thickness into his prone, accepting body. His sobs only lose all modesty when his lover pumped more enthusiastically, intensifying the friction on both his focal points being stimulated.

Gohan only seemed to get bigger, longer, and harder as he buried himself faster and deeper within Piccolo’s heavenly tightness. Their visions pulsed and their breaths crescendoed as all of their senses were propelled higher and higher to the very zenith of their threshold. 

“Aaaahh!”

“Nng… uhnn…! P-Piccolo-s-sangghh!”

“Unnhh… G-Gohannggh!”

“Y -you feel… _so good…_!”

The relentless pistoning finally reached its denouement as Gohan slammed all the way inside one final bruising time and Piccolo’s convulsing heat closed in on him like a molten steel trap, keeping him firmly buried within his walls. They both went over the edge, one long mind-numbing release after another, until Gohan had emptied every last drop of his seed deep within Piccolo and their mixed essence overflowed and pooled on the ground. Too exhausted to do anything else, they collapsed, still connected, onto the cushioned earth.

Piccolo’s body still buzzed with aftershocks from his string of powerful orgasms while Gohan clung to him from behind; both completely spent and contentedly surrendering to the relaxing albeit enervating afterglow. Spooned together like that, arms and legs tangled, whispered endearments exchanged, and soon—beneath the dimming tranquil skies and surrounded by the sweet aroma of tulips, earth, and each other—they slumbered.

**-x-**

_I have never thought myself worthy of the honour of being able to live for another much less receive such devotion in return— someone like me who was born into this world for no other purpose but to serve as a vessel of my sire’s revenge. That was all I was then—all I knew and nothing else._

_But somehow, a part of me always felt that there was more._   _I thought that it was a simple restlessness of youth—a lack of discipline that could be corrected by training of mind. I was convinced that it would go away once I had fulfilled my mission to kill my sire’s archenemy._

_I was wrong._

_But then, I met you. And all of a sudden, there was stillness and quietude in my heart._

_Despite who I was and what I was born to do– you welcomed me into your life and compelled me to stay. Before I knew it, you had warmed my cold and barren heart, and made it your home. You built the foundations so sound and so deep that it rooted onto my soul—ramifying and nurturing, until I could no longer drive you out. You became my world._

_You are the deeper meaning and purpose of me._

_Even if I did not know it then, what it was to love as a Namek does, my soul that has lived a hundred lifetimes, already did._

 

**-x-**

All the stars were already in their positions in the inky-night sky when they awoke.

After a quick dip in the nearby lake where they kissed and appeased their sore bodies with more love-making, they were snug in fresh new garbs again. Sprinkles of fireflies made up their enchanting entourage as they walked through the forest hand in hand, basking in the hallowed silence of their newfound idyllic sanctuary.

Piccolo found himself mesmerized by their glued hands and interweaved fingers—at how Gohan was squeezing every now and then, clasping him so tightly as though he never intended to let go—and he secretly hoped Gohan never will.

He had known it all along—even if he never really understood how or why—even before he knew what love was: _Gohan chose him; loved him._ Gohan was so easy to love; there was no mystery there. But for anyone to love someone like him—much less choose to love him this way and above everyone else—? Even for a soul as wise and timeless as his, it remained one of the universe’s greatest mysteries.

The Earth-born Namek knew little to none yet of what rituals humans or Saiyajins upheld to bond with another, but the soul, unlike the mind, didn’t need words or reasons to understand. Having experienced that ultimate sacred spiritual bliss together with his mate had not only reinforced their already special bond but, more than anything, it helped Piccolo’s heart affirm what his mind didn’t understand. It helped him awaken to the reality that he was loved and wanted as someone’s mate; that he was now directly responsible for their happiness. It helped him feel what it was like to be touched by a soul so pure—to become one with it…

_To belong to Gohan…_

_The one he cherished most of all._

**-x-**

 

_You’ve always had me. All of me. Didn’t you know it? I may not be very good at showing emotions yet, but you need not ask, I will always be yours._

_I know that even everything that I am is not enough remuneration for the one who has saved my soul. I do not know what else I could give to be able to show you my devotion. But know that…_

_I chose to live for you; that I may die for you._

_And for you, I would live and die again, as many times as this body and this world would permit._

_I wanted to protect you and keep you safe; to be a part of your life, no matter how insignificant. And you allowed me to be that. You gave me a reason to want to exist; a reason that was entirely my own._

_It was more than I ever dared dream of—I never dared to dream of anything more._

_I will always be here for you, Gohan._

_And I will continue to be._

_For as long as you need me._

**-x-**

 

“Are you happy, Piccolo-sama?”

“ _Aa_.”

“If Piccolo-san is happy… then I am the happiest of all.”

Piccolo laughed.

_Happiness._

Something that Piccolo Daimah Jr. was completely inept at being or even understanding before. But it wasn’t so difficult now—being on the receiving end of Gohan’s kisses;  _being filled with Gohan’s essence;_  being able to taste Gohan’s tears which poured ceaselessly when they completed their union…

If anything, it was _impossible to not be happy._

_Was it possible to be more than happy?_

Because now the word “happy” didn’t seem to suffice. Now that he knew what happiness was, he was convinced that what Gohan made him feel…? It was something even better…

“Happy Hatchday, Piccolo-san,” Gohan breathed with a kiss to his ear, smiling up at him afterwards with bleary eyes. “I’m so happy you were born.”

Piccolo drew him close, feeling Gohan hiccup against his chest as his gesture is reciprocated with a crushing embrace. After a long moment, the boy leaned up for a bout or two of unhurried kisses, and then he shrunk back down and burrowed deeper into his mentor’s body.

“Piccolo-san…” Gohan began after some silence.

“Mn.”

“I know my birthday is still over a week away but… I was hoping that maybe… you could grant me an early birthday wish…?”

Piccolo’s heart swelled. “Anything that I can give you, Gohan, you know I gladly will.”

The boy exhaled an airy, giddy chuckle.

“I wish… that Piccolo-san would always be mine and only mine. _For always._ ”

“I already am, Gohan,” Piccolo stated with some confusion. “You need not ask."

“I didn’t mean that the way it’s always been… With you on the outside looking in – and me on the inside looking out… I don’t just want to share my world and my happiness with you, or for you to simply share yours. Do you understand what my wish is, Piccolo-san…? I want no distinctions this time.”

“ _No_ …  _distinctions_ …?”

Gohan tilted up his head until their noses were touching; searching those scarlet-amethyst orbs with his glistening russet-browns and mouthing words that seemed to ride the wind like the last vestiges of a receding dream…

“My wish is…”

_Words that the wind might have easily blown away into the skies or some distant land, forever to be forgotten or dismissed as a folly of his imagination; words that Piccolo Daimaoh Jr. never thought he would hear in this lifetime or the next…_

 

“…For Piccolo-san to marry me.”

 

 **The End.**  (Not.) **  
Bonus Chapter Ahead. (Coming Soon.)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This continues in the next instalment of my **"A Bed of Tulips"** series: **"Valentine Scramble"** (which is being revised). But we still have a bonus chapter before this Retro-verse story wraps up. **Thank you infinitely to the lovelies who went out of their busy way to leave this story some love!** *3* ♥︎

**Author's Note:**

> This story underwent a 3rd revision (as of 2018/02/27). Cheers! -Marie ||v^)b♥︎
> 
> * * *
> 
> **Dragon Ball/Z/GT/Xenoverse/Super** /etc. belong to their respective owners.  
>  I own nothing except this derivative fanwork which I do not profit from.


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